Johnny Wraith Stories

Nothing happens for a reason or according to anyone’s plan, whether they are a man, beast, demon, or deity, plant, or stone, but everything is but a small step or a wiggle in a perfectly choreographed, absurdly chaotic dance with no origin or cause. There is no good or evil, or time, or permanent folly, but only laughter and tears, food and drink, and sex and bowel movements, the paintbrush and the pen, hope, and in no particular order, birth and death with countless slumbers and awakenings in between. We can’t ever grasp it, but sometimes we may catch the colors and sounds, or tastes or palpability of it, as it whisks through our hair and over our skin with its invisible currents, but only whenever we are looking the other way.

One day, I tumbled off a bridge and into the water.