by Kenneth Clay
I suddenly found myself back in Las Vegas. I did not know why I came back. Just following the highways wherever took you on a great adventure. And my great adventure led back here. Outside my hotel, I met a woman. She was smoking a cigarette and staring off into the...
by Kenneth Clay
I was sitting at a bar in Pennsylvania. I had driven here from Minnesota in a week. What had taken so long was the fact I had decided to drive around in circles through the Midwest. I still had a good surplus of cash. And I hid it everywhere. Under the seats, in the...
by Kenneth Clay
On a train through Minnesota. Heading to the station where my car had been parked for a day. I stared out the window in silence. Marvelous rivers and forests. We were in the middle of nowhere, the boondocks, and it was beautiful. Then the train passed through a...
by Kenneth Clay
Somewhere in Atlanta, Georgia. I had driven here from Vegas in three-and-a-half days. My car was simply a pile of rubble. And yet, somehow, it held itself together. I was growing reliable on it. Attached. I had to pick out a name. Perhaps, I’d name it Carla. A...
by Kenneth Clay
Midnight. Somewhere outside a motel six in downtown Phoenix, Arizona. It was a fine summer night and the air was dry. I had just come into town the backway. Straight from the empty desert. My hair was undone. There were bags around my sleepless eyes. And I stunk like...
by Kenneth Clay
It’s not that I don’t like the human race. I’m not some maniac hellbent on destruction and malice. I help people out. I attend parties and I smile, laugh, dance, and joke. I engage in one-on-one conversations with friends. I can say “good morning,”...
by Kenneth Clay
My father and I used to always be at each other’s throats. We’d scream and argue all the time and we’d never treat each other well. Because of this, I mentioned a line about this in my Soft White Underbelly interview a year-and-a-half ago and it...
by Kenneth Clay
I pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out. Blank Arizona fields stretched out as far as the eye could see. In the far distance, a herd of cows. Under my tire laid a roadkill raccoon. I leaned against my car, puffing on a cigarette. The sun was high in the...
by Kenneth Clay
I have psychotic depression. It’s not that I’m suicidal or hearing voices constantly. In fact, I’m happy and have a lot of good in my life. i just struggle sometimes. It feels like I mainly deal with the “negative symptoms” of...
by Kenneth Clay
NOTE: This is a first draft of an old version of Book Two. As of writing, I’m writing the second version. So, this is basically nonsense. It’s still cool though, so I’m keeping it up. Chapter One I had spent about three months in...
