I'm mad. Hopping mad. Broke a pencil I'm so mad.A well-known company in the book industry has informed me that my use of the word "Gypsy" is objectionable. They did so politely. I won't disclose who they are or exactly what was said, as their TOS disallows sharing of correspondence between us. I will tell … Continue reading Let’s talk about Gypsies
It doesn't have to end like this. Isn't that what they always say? Hell, who knows? Like any of us are actually there when you would say something like that. Because nobody walks away to actually talk about it. But it makes sense, doesn't it? Sure it does. I doesn't have to be like this. … Continue reading R S T
Cold. Brutally efficient. Relentless. These were the words he had circled on the brochure, a document that would not leave the room where he had read it. They would burn it after he left. It was that much of a secret. Because you can't let people find out about a killer without a conscience. He … Continue reading 48 HOURS
https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/michaeljlawrence She was a war widow. A war widow by the lake. It's the only place she would see him. It was the only place she would see anybody. The rest of the time, she shut herself up in her little house behind a door that opened so rarely the hinges never squeaked. The sun … Continue reading WAR WIDOW
Marsha is looking out the plastic window of our habitat now. She's looking at that permanent fog infesting the outer wall of The Dome - that relentless barrier between us and the wastelands outside. "I can't stand it," she says. "I can't stand it. I can't stand it." The sand, over time, has ground away … Continue reading Marsha’s Last Stand
He wanted to say brash things. Let the herald of a thousand flowers drown the daylight by which they fought and the moonlight by which they buried the dead. Let us speak of brash things as if the world were not itself. But all he could do now was hear the relentless wind grinding sand … Continue reading Dark Winds
Nobody liked you. I mean nobody. It never occurred to me that you knew that. It never occurred to me that we went too far. Smartass sonofabitch. Standing here, that's all I can think of to say to you and mean it. You thought you were smarter than everybody else and so you used big … Continue reading We Went Too Far
I like it up here. It's dark and windy, and I can see the lights rolling across the hills tucked away in little neighborhoods like mine. And just over their, SFO. I watch the jets angling up from runway two eight. I breathe in the sensation deep as they tuck their wheels up into their … Continue reading And All Our Yesterdays
I remember the first time I saw her. That was before the SS was after her. Before Mama told her to hide. Before I came to this dark place where there is nothing left but to wait. I was just ten years old and I was following the postman that night. I knew he wasn't … Continue reading I Remember the First Time I Saw Her
Papa was at the war. The war that was very far away. When Jimmy and I ran out back and into the scrub desert, we would chase the sun until it settled behind the dry hills of New Mexico. Panting and grabbing our aching sides, we would collapse in the dirt and say, "We ain't … Continue reading The War was Far Away
Michael J Lawrence 
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