Note: The real names of the individuals in this story have not been used in order to protect their identities. I wasn’t old enough to get a real job, but a sixth grader named Lance chucked the newspapers around Lewis Drive and graciously offered me his flyer route. I got twenty-five cents a flyer, which … Continue reading That Brutal Day on the Corner of Olive Avenue and Bernard Street.
As the bigot spewed his ignorant hatred -- monosyllabic slices firing in rapid succession -- his patient interlocutor, Ferdos, contemplated the genesis of differentiation. He dissociated from the violent present, and extended his mind towards the totality of being. The great chain of contingency, he had heard, extends from the unseen realm of the Primal … Continue reading Ferdos Embraces the Bigot