Henry Herzberg
Bio
Fear is the mind killer.
Stories (2)
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For Nothing
“Cal. Listen to me. I have to give it to you.” I furrowed my brow, “The locket Cal.” “Oh.” I nodded. “Give me something, Cal, anything before I have to give it up. Please Cal. I love you so much. Looking at you drives me insane because I know there’s someone in there that I can love. The memories of our childhood, before the logic pilot. I remember Cal. We were best friends!”
By Henry Herzberg5 years ago in Fiction
Across Reality
I think. I’ve the need to gouge my eyes out but lack the ability. So, I think. The last thing available to me, essentially a brain in a jar. If I could write my thoughts, I would. But I think, in hopes that some connectedness exists between minds, perhaps through time or across realities. Something within me reassures; my thoughts will be written. Somewhere, sometime. Almost like I feel the author’s fingers typing now, that feeling reassures that I can commune. With somebody. Finally.
By Henry Herzberg5 years ago in Fiction
