It wasn’t all that long ago, from my current perspective, that I was wholly human. I was a man with a lover, a family and friends. My job was as a consultant in the technology field. Traveling most of the world from developing nations to industrialized countries, I loved what I did almost reveling in the stress it took to get the job done.

Although it is a long tale itself, the short version is that while I was in South Africa installing a new software inventory system that included the implantation of microcircuitry connected to the optic nerves of the employees, my entire family was slaughtered.
Unknown "Tim's Tiny Tim" Feisty - 16 years, 8 months, 11 days ago

With eyes tight shut against the darkness, my other senses took over. I realized I was horizontal, laying on my back; the surface beneath me solid and uncomfortable. Listening, there was no sound, not even the beating of a heart. Smell, there was the strong scent of turned, wet earth. Moving my fingers as they lay at my side, I felt a rough and unfinished material, lumber at a guess.

Even somewhat dazed and blind it didn’t take long for me to realize where I was. Buried. In a coffin. Beneath the dirt.

At least I wasn’t buried alive, as they say. Being a vampire is somewhere betwixt those mythic forces of life and death. Extrication should probably be next on my daily planner. Although, one must wonder, is it past dawn in the world outside?
Unknown "Tim's Tiny Tim" Feisty - 16 years, 8 months, 27 days ago

It seemed as if darkness had swallowed me whole. It wasn’t the comfortable darkness of night which I consider a friend. It was a darkness devoid of even a spark to be used to focus my vision. There was also the dull ache behind my right ear that I intuited to mean that my latest bout of unconsciousness had nothing to do with sleep.

I closed my eyes against the enemy dark and tried to think. How did I come to be here, in darkness and in considerable pain?

Unknown "Tim's Tiny Tim" Feisty - 16 years, 9 months, 2 days ago

Ants Don't Bury Their Friends

I asked mom if the ants were intending
Uncle for Thanksgiving but she said
Uncle was locked up tight in his Iron
House where even the Devil couldn't reach
Him. I wanted to ask if Jesus could
Reach him but momma always acted funny
About Jesus as if he weren't a good guy.

The next day momma carried the bug
Dust and a fresh bunch of plastic
Flowers and sacrificed the ants.
Uncle had a lonely Thanksgiving but
Next year the ants and I are going
To make sure Uncle gets to Heaven.
Unknown "Tim's Tiny Tim" Feisty - 16 years, 9 months, 3 days ago