I wrote a poem in my closet this morning. Thinking of entering it in a few festivals, maybe Cannes, I don't know. I'm not really ready for all that fame and success. In the meantime… life goes on.
Dad’s Journal: The Horrors of Astro’s Playroom
It will be years yet before El Matador experiences the horror of The Last of Us and the utterly soul-crushing death march of its sequel, and I can't help but envy that kind of ignorance. For him, the world is still a wonderful, friendly, and inviting place.
Stories I Tell My Son: The Strawberry Farm
Once upon a time, there was a dragon. In this dragon's ear was the biggest strawberry farm you've ever seen. Everybody loved the dragon's strawberries, but the only person the dragon allowed to pick them was Little Matador. And the only reason he...