1: Morgan's Kid

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1: Morgan's Kid

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It's been eighteen short years since the day detailed in the following pages. I am now thirty-seven years young. I've owned three cars, two houses and managed the distribution facility that fulfills orders for the books my wife writes. She's written ten bestsellers in last five years. She's on a roll, and I'm enjoying the ride. My daughter from another father is in Europe teaching music at the Sorbonne. Not everyone can be so lucky.
The story buried in the white of these pages illuminates the changes that occurred on a single day in my life. The genesis was bound to happen, and it did. It was not nearly as apparent as it is now, but it was equally profound. I could never have expressed the changes that occurred then like I can now. The necessary clarity only came when I could recognize it. The imitation followed when my etymological verse found its voice. This didn’t happen until I started writing. I realized that as I matured over that one day experience so did my voice when memorializing the twelve hour adventure.
I've acquired some gray, but I am happier than I have ever been, considering being stuck between Xer’s and Millennials. I've matured by embracing the unknown, swam in glory of the beautiful gifts in life, refused to internalize and hence, react to those details for which I have no control. I am just waiting for the next shoe to drop. Until then, I am keeping the shoes I have firmly placed onto my feet to hide the smell.
This is my heaven and I am proud of it. The journey was long, hellish to the core, but only in perception. So here is the one day that changed the rest of my life. I would not change a thing.

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