Ben’s original writings
Nightfall. Alone on the trails. Running, lost in thought and the rhythm of my own body. Out of nowhere, blinding pain. A screech. Something attacking, hitting my head. I am stunned. Not sure. Brain racing. What just happened? Did that really just happen? I am in shock. It happens again. Something swooping down. Claws! Claws in my
The River at Dusk, an original Poem by Benjamin Pritchard i wonder, sometimes, what it is that connect us,to who we used to be,other thanfragile memory,often rewrittenor willfully forgot.was it me — or someone else —who was here before?i think i am me now.but i probably thought so then too.so what connects those me’s i
This story is part of a three part series inspired by the of the Lightning Path: Part 1: The Calling Part 2: The Awakening Part 3: The Activated Boy The Awakening 1-October-2011 Like everybody else, the boy was struck by the beauty of the woman. His secret pleasure was to hang back and look on
This story is part of a three part series inspired by the of the Lightning Path: Part 1: The Calling Part 2: The Awakening Part 3: The Activated Boy The Calling 20-October-2011 I learned to hear God speaking to me when my baby was born. Like a dream, a baby was there. And her mom
This story is part of a three part series inspired by the of the Lightning Path: Part 1: The Calling Part 2: The Awakening Part 3: The Activated Boy The Activated Boy 13-May-2019 While hobbling around on three legs proved easy enough for the dog, standing on his hind legs and jumping in circles was
topsy turvy, upside down, inside out, and backwords. beaten up, broken down, undernourished, and over fed. overweight, out of shape, unaware? don’t care! head down, eyes closed, over worked, and underpaid. manipulated, lied to, used, abused, and discarded. It all just seems so gross, rude, uncalled-for and stupid.