Hanging Between Luck and Steel

January 23, 2026

The train was faster than any we’d tried before. I almost pulled back. I didn’t. My feet slipped on the loose rock, and suddenly my legs were sliding forward — right under the edge of the train. Steel passed inches above my shins. My hands shot up and caught the ladder. Rust bit into my palms. The vibration ran straight up my arms. I hung there, legs dangling just inches from the tracks, breath gone, the metal alive beneath my grip. That was the first time the thrill outran my timing. And the…

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A Millimeter From Darkness

January 22, 2026

I copied the posture that worked for a BB gun and applied it to a shotgun without understanding the physics, the recoil, the risk. A child mimics what he knows, not realizing how different the stakes are. I pulled the trigger. The blast was instantaneous — a concussive punch that slammed into my shoulder and snapped my head sideways. A streak of pain tore across my face, hot and bright, and I screamed. Blood ran down my cheek in a thin, warm line. For a moment, my father thought the worst —…

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Baby Shark

January 16, 2026

My dad watched my progress with quiet pride. The guys came over to drink beer and play pool. Many nights, I was the opening act — five years old, standing on a chair, dropping balls and jaws at the same time.

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The Art of Shit Talking

January 15, 2026

That’s when he taught me the art of shit-talking. Not as a lecture — more like a lion keeping a cub in check. He’d talk just enough to raise the stakes. Call the next crazy shot. Back it up. Or slip in a hustler’s nudge: “There’s a lot of pressure on this one.” “Too bad you missed that easy shot for the win.” Sometimes he said it before even walking up to the eight ball. Naturally, I fired back. That rhythm lasted our entire lives. We only see each other once a year now, but the same pool table…

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