an old writer and his words

  • LIVES

    I have lived many lives, too many to count, and I remember bits and pieces of each, but not necessarily to which life this bit or that bit should attach. It is why I run them together, view them as a singularity, easier to cope even when I know it is a nice delusion. I…

    Lou Faber

  • BLESSING

    There is a blessing in silence that we so often deny ourselves, unaware that it lies just beyond the noise of our minds and lives. We crave it, beg for it, and hearing the beggar, shun him for the noise he carries like the skin he cannot molt. Beethoven understood silence in his later years…

    Lou Faber

  • WAITING ROOM, WAITING GAME

    They are arrayed like so much stacked cord wood, pressed against walls indifferent to their presence. They watch the double doors leading to the examining rooms with trepidation, wanting to be next, wanting more not to be here at all, knowing the options are none. He isn’t bothered by it all, this is old hat…

    Lou Faber