On Saturdays I dusted off the week’s work from my overalls, scraped together my quarter’s worth of change, and raced to the theater. In that dusty room, my laugh and smile awaited me.

As the projection light dissipated, I clenched my eyes shut, unable to watch my friends dissolve away.

Jason wanted to write something. He wanted his imagination to be involved. Inspiration was elusive and hard for him to wield and mold into something meaningful. Some silence and peace of mind were all he needed for this. Jason finds it strange that his writing reflects more emotion than he ever feels in life.