The on who Wished write.as/wolfinwool/t... He wished he could ease the pain As quickly as he caused it. He wished he could see reality— Or to make his wishes real. He wished to do no harm. He wished to edify all he touched. He wished so many things.

write.as/wolfinwool/n... Cape Coast, 2010 The fishermen here begin early. Before the sun even thinks of rising, they’re out there—bare silhouettes hauling in nets like it’s nothing. It’s Tuesday, the day they’re not supposed to fish, but a few boats dot the horizon anyway...

write.as/wolfinwool/r... Leaving Caprock canyon today. Another lazy morning, we don’t depart until noon. The gift shop is closed for lunch. No keychains for us—our souvenirs will have to be memories and bug splatters.

write.as/wolfinwool/w... I sprung from sleep with the light of day. I drenched my thirst and closed the window that was giving me frigid dreams. A car door startled me, so I checked out our new neighbor here at the primitive campground parking area.

write.as/wolfinwool/w... We chased the day westward, but the light still slipped away. Head out for adventure. Head out on the highway. Ready for whatever comes my way. As CamperVan Beethoven rolled away from our cozy hole in the ground, she looked at me auspiciously. “What?” I proffered.

write.as/wolfinwool/t... I am home. In the wild. Nothing but the wind, the dark and the crickets for company at night. Today, the wind is still by my side, but joining the chorus is the sound of birds, the snort of a buffalo and the warm daystar.

write.as/wolfinwool/d... We care for a cat. I don’t love cats, but I tolerate this one.
 She loves this cat. Not as much as the dog she had when I met her, but I can tell this cat is something special.
 Honestly, I wish she talked to me the way she talks to this dumb cat.

write.as/wolfinwool/w... After seven months of sweat, sawdust, and emotional meltdowns, CamperVan Beethoven 2.0 is finally done. Our 2014 Sprinter is officially, though not perfectly, converted to a mobile home for two. Version 1 took two weeks.

write.as/wolfinwool/t... The floorboards creak as I walk through the rooms of this 100-year-old seaside building. Not the dusty, gritty groan of a house in the final throes of its existence... these are the creaks of a well-loved and lived-in place.

write.as/wolfinwool/f... There’s a farm road I take when I need to cross town and I’m not in a hurry. It skirts the city, wrapping around it gently, and deposits me where I need to be. There are many things on this farm road.

Animation by Holger Leihe* | The Iron Giant (1999) #penciltest #sakuga #genga #2danimation

write.as/wolfinwool/a... I'm writing this in the final hours of your time here in Dust Meridian. This letter began a year ago, but time and tide have stood against it's execution. It stands to send tonight, Monday April 7, 2025.

t.co/7vj7JszS2P Sleep came hard this morning and did not last. I was back at the keyboard by 10am when client work drifted in. It was good; I need paying work to keep this fantasy alive. That wrapped by noon, it was time to dress and pick up brochures from the printer. It poured today.

We are at my mother-in-laws tonight. I can't count how many times I've been right here in the last 35 years. The rooms dimensions haven't changed, just the decoration. read more... write.as/wolfinwool/b... Or listen: Listen to a reading of: Beards, Bottles and Time on.soundcloud.com/i4BU2atu51Hy...