Author: Hayley Moon

No One Has Enough

Time. No one has enough of it, not in a day, a week, a month or a year. Where does it go and most importantly can one get it back?

I would often sit around and wonder, ‘my God, I am almost thirty boy where did those carefree afternoons spent relishing in doing absolutely nothing, the long summers that never seemed to end and the smell of soul food coming from Granny’s kitchen go?’

Before I realized Life is what you make of it and that only I can rescue myself, I was pass the point of young adulthood and settling into Adulthood, where things aren’t so simple.

It was starting around twenty-eight, when the heavy questions started to gnaw at me. Do you want children? Do you want to get married? Do you see yourself working here for the long term? What’s your endgame?

I had no answer because I had never thought of those questions because I felt, back then, that I had all of the time in the world.

Now, I am in a constant state of panic; frustrated that things aren’t happening fast enough or that those things should have happened sooner. Why wasn’t I more focused and disciplined? Why didn’t I have more fun? Why did I play it so safe all of the time?

It goes back to before, I thought I had all of the time in the world. Now, I understand that standing still will not slow it down it will keep going the clock will keep ticking.

So, I better get busy.

The Hiatus

It’s been over a month; a well deserved break from the voices rattling around in my head screaming lists of everything that I needed to write.

My break from writing began as an accident. Or rather my extended over a month long break began as an accident.

Following the live Noir, I had intended to ride that high into completing the first chapter of my book of short stories that I decided deserved to be one story.

On the ride through the hills of Hoover, I decided I would take a week or so and let my fro blow in the wind and focus on building my website by creating a schedule for posting blogs.

Then life came out of her corner swinging and its demands sent me into a withdrawn state.

A state in which I have fought long and hard to overcome. I can proudly say I have gained enough ground to declare myself the victor.

The Dark

What is about the darkness that inspires men to put words to paper, invoke fear in children and cause the imagination to run rampant?

I thought of these questions each time I walked the stairs.

As I performed an hourly equipment check, I glimpsed out the window at the dark and wondered.

I let the fear of walking around a desolate building, alone, as a woman, in the middle of the night unnerve and inspire me.

Why am I afraid of the Dark?

Why are you?