I’m Back at the Keyboard
It’s been a while since I’ve sat down to write a blog post like this.
Life has a way of pulling you in different directions, and for a time, writing took a quieter place in mine. Not gone—just… waiting. Collecting thoughts, moments, and stories that weren’t quite ready to be told yet.
But some stories don’t stay quiet forever.
Where This Story Began
The Ghost of 1971 was one of those.
I didn’t sit down one day and decide to write it. It didn’t come from a neat outline or a fully formed plan. It started as a feeling more than anything else—something unresolved, something lingering. The kind of idea that doesn’t leave you alone, even when you try to set it aside.
A question kept circling in the background:
What happens to a promise when it’s left waiting for too long?
The Things That Linger
That question stayed with me. It followed me through ordinary days, through quiet moments, through everything else I had going on. And over time, it grew into something more—a story about time, about secrets, and about the weight of things left unfinished.
This isn’t a just a ghost story. It’s a story about the homeless–the invisible citizens of our world. What promises did they make and will they ever get a chance to fulfill them?
It’s about life.
It’s about what lingers—between people, between past and present, between what was said and what was never followed through. It’s about the kind of silence that builds over years, and what happens when that silence finally breaks.
Why I Had to Write It Now
I have had this idea percolating for some time. Steaming up once in a while when I’m in a quiet place or most often when we pass someone pushing a cart of odds and ends. Probably everything they own. Neighbors who are never recognized like our James in the story–sitting on a sidewalk corner with a sign…
And maybe that’s why this story had to be written now.
Because sometimes, there comes a point where you can’t keep carrying an idea without giving it a place to land. Where holding onto it becomes heavier than letting it go.
Writing this felt like that moment.
If You Decide to Read It
If you’re someone who enjoys stories with a quieter kind of tension—ones that unfold slowly, that leave you thinking a little longer after the last page—you might find something here.
I hope you do read it, experience it, I’d genuinely love to hear what stayed with you—leave a comment or feel free to reach out through my contact page.
This Is Just the Beginning
This is just the beginning of me showing up here again—sharing stories, ideas, and the things that refuse to stay buried.
I’m glad you’re here for it.
