I don’t like you one bit. What kind of god hides his face behind a blanket of stars? The pretentious kind, that’s what. I think you’re much less than you pretend to be, if you’re there at all. You’re not all-powerful, you’re a spoiled child who didn’t get his way. And that’s another thing, why you have to go off saying you is a man and all that? I’d prefer if you was a woman. Maybe then something good would get done round here instead of all this fightin.
Sometimes when I look at these woods, peer deep into them like I am now, I see you. Or I see what your followers claim is you. But I’m starting to think that maybe what I’m seeing when I gaze deep into these woods is in fact the absence of you. Maybe there’s peace and quiet when you’re gone. And when you start throwing your weight round, people get hurt. I don’t know. I don’t know much about anything. But I know my mama prayed at your feet every goddamn day and look what happened to her. Broken and shivering. Like a paper bag blowin in the wind by the end, your wind, the skin tight around her skull, her mouth just a crease. Even her voice fled her before the end. Maybe it joined you in the stars. Maybe that’s what you collect as trophies—the voices of the dying.
I don’t know. Maybe I got it all wrong. But I don’t trust you one bit.
Stay outta my woods,
This brilliant debut consists of a prose collection of fictional letters from a deceased 26-year-old Southern American named Jeremiah John Watts (JJ). The people JJ mentions in these letters have a parallel to the alienated and confused dreamers, addicts and lost souls found in the work of the likes of Denis Johnson and William Burroughs, but JJ’s larger-than-life sentimentality as his past leaks out of his heart and onto the page puts this collection in some new sphere of perception equally brilliant but entirely its own. Gradually, the letters tell a fractured tale of a life of mistakes, heartbreak, sickness, and regret, but also love, faith, hope and perseverance.
– Heath Brougher Author, A Curmudgeon is Born, and Your Noisy Eyes
To find out more about Dreaming In Starlight read the Introduction.
About the Author
Philip Elliott was born in Dublin, Ireland in 1993 and quickly started scribbling nonsense. He’s the founder and editor-in-chief of Into the Void Magazine, and his own writing can be found in various journals in 9 countries, such as Otoliths, Scarlet Leaf Review, Foliate Oak, Revista Literariedad and Flash Fiction Magazine. He has a degree in Ancient Classics, likes to blur the boundaries between fiction’s many genres, and loves above all writing that is honest and heartfelt. Philip lives in Dublin, where he gets along better with his dogs than any humans, is finishing up work on a novella and much too many other projects, and is any combination of these things: fiction writer, poet, feminist, vegan, atheist, buddhist, minimalist, mindful meditator, wandering wonderer, punk rock fanatic & very loose cannon. Stalk him at philipelliottfiction.com.
Visit Philip’s Author Page At www.ctupublishinggroup.com/philip-elliott.html
Free to Read on Kindle Unlimited At www.amazon.com/dp/B06XJCG48J