honea byrne

         © 2005 13 Apr 03     Synopsis:             Many have gotten depressed over the loss a boy/girl friend. Many have even contemplated suicide over such a loss. My story 2 to 1 is about a character that has this problem. He takes it to drastic extremes. These extremes include posting obituaries as wall paper and working at a local morgue. As the story progresses two dilemmas develop. One of these dilemmas is that his fantasies of killing himself are manifested on those he does autopsies on. It is as though he is doomed to see ways of dyi> ng in which he himself hasn’t got the gumption to do. The second dilemma is his obsession over his ex-girlfriend. This is a scenario in which his girl friend Kathy and him are doing psychic warfare to destroy one another. In this war a mysterious mass cult suicide becomes involved entangling and straining the lives of all involved.              I used my real life experiences to create the story. These experiences include assisting autops

  I strummed with my finger tips and a pick close to the guitar’s pick up so that I could hear myself trespassing youthful organized melodies. I stared out the window and the clouds came close to the ground. I swear that I felt something at the same time that I heard the first of the storm’s thunder roll. Then I put together the tightest lick on my guitar ever. Everyone started staring at me. Immediately, the storm infiltrated the amps and caused them to hiss. At that point I felt David. But I came to doubt my enlightening experience because one of the kids proclaimed that my guitar was playing hot and sounded like a burned out pawn shop guitar. I stopped playing, turning away to walk to the window and hide my tears. I saw the rainbow and sun’s rays now shine as I felt like David had never left me.               During the final minutes of the lesson I asked one of my fellow students to teach me Pink Floyd’s ‘Wish You Were Here,’ a song that was one of Dave’s favorites. https:/

 It was July 4, 2000 when Papa finally saw adoctor about a strange bump on his left side underneath his armpit. Much to my mother's and grandmother's dismay the doctor said it was Cancer. And he quickly deteriorated in weeks. I had a year and a half to go in the army. I was stationed at Fort Lee Virginia . My job was a grave digger (MORTUARY AFFAIRS). IN BETWEEN ALCOHOLIC BLACK OUTS AND HANGOVERS, COURTESY OF CAPTAIN MORGAN, COORS, DEAD GUY ALE, ARROGANT BASTARD ALE AND WHAT EVER ELSE I COULD CONSUME, I KEPT MY GRANDIOSE EGO Sane Enough to convince my platoon sergeant to send me to a pre-promotional board for my sergeant stripes. I did the best out of nine other soldiers in the company. My sergeant was very proud. A week later I came up on orders for deployment to Kosovo. A week before I left for Kosovo, my mom called me on the phone in tears desperately begging me to visit Papa. Therefore, I got on that plane with Vodka chased with White Zinfandel buzz. Smoked like a drag