Narcan, Puzzles the Will

Until St. Patrick’s Day is over, the Kindle version of Responding is on sale. $3.99 today, $4.99 tomorrow.

Excerpt from the book Responding, by Michael Morse…

Alone, in a dirty bathroom in an abandoned house, syringes everywhere, rat droppings, human waste, empty vodka bottles. Squatters found him. I’m surprised they called us.


To treat, or not to treat, that is the question.

Whether ’tis nobler to leave the unconscious man

alone, to suffer his fate,

for he slings the poison that made his fortune

Or take his arm, and pierce his flesh,

To die, to sleep, to revel among his dreams,

and slumber into the abyss, unknowing,

for in that death, what dreams may come

haunted visions born from a witches brew

interrupted by a different potion

that makes calamity of extended life

of scorn and ridicule, and endless need,

the pangs of love delayed, and the laws slippery grasp

for who is this man, that scorns the life of a common man,

and chooses one of continued depravity,

and suffers in silence, alone, with his thoughts

and an empty bag whose contents

are better served as fleeting sands in the hourglass

rather than the ruination of

another poor soul

whose time is running out.


I pushed the Narcan.



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