Author's Note

Now back to the story, if there be a story here at all. I write because I am angry, this is the question I ask myself. I write to athwart anger and to increase anger. I write to avoid anger and to encourage anger. I write to make sense of anger, the anger that sits on my chest like a fat sailor. I write to write away the anger, to shoo away the fat sailor sitting a-perch my chest. I write to see where the anger will take me, where it has taken me and how I came to be so anger. I write to see if the fatigue of being angry, of writing about the anger is worth while, worth all the anger and bitterness. I write because anger tells me to do so, to write about the anger that sits athwart my chest like a fat cherubic whore. I write because I have to write, I have no other choice but to write; to write the anger away.