by Joseph Grant
He practiced unspeakable acts in his uncontrolled youth, hell-bent on living life to the fullest, acting like some crystal meth-addled rock star, trashing whatever friend’s houses where he was temporarily staying, stealing, not giving a shit about anyone but himself, tapping the ass of anything that moved, leaving women devastated and heartbroken and children fatherless and all the while the boy behind the mask of the young man became more and more desperate but never showed so much as a tear. He got into a vicious knife fight once with a man who cast an offensive remark at his girlfriend and eyeing her up and down the wrong way as they entered a movie theater and felt no remorse because the guy had it coming, he reasoned and while chivalry wasn’t dead, the guy sure was and as he skipped the movie and the town, the case went unsolved. As he got older, no, he didn’t mature, he just got older. Then one day walking home from the bar, he was mugged by some local punks and they beat him bad, but he had suffered worse and although it took him a little longer to recover physically, the psychological wounds took much longer to heal as he realized the feeling of defenselessness for the first time in his life. His conscience was reborn when against all odds, he lived to be an old man and he grew afraid of death and it bothered him greatly at night so much so that he just couldn’t sleep as he reflected upon his rather sinful life. His insomnia left him drowning in a turbulent ocean of guilt, dreaming of sand.
Joseph Grant, whose full catalog is here, is a 6S All-Star and the first featured author in our "Six Sixes" series.