He was safe inside, always safe. He had no idea of the reality outside when he opened the door and stepped out. He was as if hit with fog so thick It folded around him. It enveloped him like a slime creature. He could feel it now, it’s very texture. Like tapioca; like vomit with no smell. Yet.
Suddenly, living forever terrified him.
Mark Kohut lives in Shepherdstown, WVA. His career has encompassed “a lifetime in the book business, from bookstores through sales right up to the dead middle, the horse latitudes. In NYC.” He has had “a poem or two published when young.” He describes himself as “not an angry old man, but a usually happy older one.”
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