I am the dough that was left between the shapes of cookie cutter, factory stamp, and canned answers. I chose not to bake bread since there is already plenty and then some. Instead, I fed the ants since they outnumber us a million to one anyway. We need them, but they don’t need us.

Where is the rain, and where is the doctor? The answer is he left the building. My dog knew and I bet yours did too.

You can order my new memoir here:
The Irony of the Well

-Owen