I've had a few requests for examples of my fictional writing so

Dr wrong Part 1

Easy Street

Game 1.

The fucking dogs go on bananas.

10 o'clock on a dead silent winter night and the goddamn things yapping relentlessly towards

my house.

If I were in the living room, the racket would be muted

in all but drowned out by the hockey game. But I'm in my crying four-month-old son's bedroom that faces

said menace, and the restrain I'm exercising is getting a cram.

I hear a thump come from somewhere above me and remember Anna's going hard up there.

She's desperately trying to reshape her body after passing a human,

music blasting through her earbuds, blissfully unaware of the all-out auditory

assault being launched at us from across the way.

We moved to this small town with its small town jargon just after my son was born. I caught myself saying

Moia the other day while conversing with old Pete at the bakery and felt my IQ dropped 20 points.

And I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and publish her children's books, and the only way

to do that was to move somewhere inexpensive.

This place fit the criteria, although we had to relocate four hours from the city and time travel socially about 50 years.

I landed a job as a math teacher at a neighboring township and we moved our little family into a home that would have cost four times as much back home.

There's a beer vendor inside the local watering hole so I have a six-pack within reach

that I feel parched to midnight.

...