The Purge (from a fevered prophet) It began with a virus. The voice cracked— then the illusions. Illness wasn’t a curse. It was interruption. A reset. Goals, amputated. Then the spores. A mirror. Staring into my site like it might confess. Saw my soul pop-up. Selling myself— my gift— cheaply. Embarrassingly. Vomited—violently. Not from nausea, […]
©2010 – 2025 Peter McGraw. All rights reserved.