Moonless Nights

Food can definitely be your worse enemy when you suffer from PCOS. What food does to my body when I eat it's such an amazing feeling that I'm continuously thinking about food. It's also why I'm consistently hungry and very cranky when I don't eat. I feel that my body has taken over me. Eat, or suffer. Yes, terrible migraines and nausea. My hands shake and my vision becomes blurry. The fact that I'm always hungry contributes to my biggest problem; even when I eat in between meals I'm finding myself hungry and wanting pizza instead of fruits or burgers instead of vegetables. My energy level is low and exercising is a big trouble. The weight goes up and the self-confidence go low. Anxiety. I can't sleep if I'm hungry. Taking anti-anxiety pills won't let me eat at all. I take one it becomes difficult for me to swallow the food.  It feels pretty much like I'm forcing myself to eat. Motivation. Lacking. ...

I don't know how many times I begin to write this book. I'm looking for such perfection that I'm never satisfy with what I write. Let's see if this one will be it. Chapter One The Coffee Shop 11:45 PM “Why are you constantly looking at that watch?” Christina was cleaning the counters and my mind was nowhere near there. I had been sitting on a stool just looking at my watch. “Sander.” I said. “He promised to pick me up an hour ago.” Christina sighed. “You still...” I think she noticed the sadness in my eyes. “I'm getting off in 15 minutes, can I take you home?” “Okay.” I cracked a smile and grabbed a cloth. “I'll help you clean the tables.” “Okay, I'll head to the back and make sure everything is good in the kitchen.” Christina said and took off to the back. While I was cleaning the table I heard the door open. I thought Cristina had locked it. “I'm sorry, are you guys open?” “No, we just...” He was wet, I looked out the windo...

Part 2 "Are you from Guyana?" "No." "India?" "No." "Trinidad?" "No." "Oh." "I look like I'm from India?" "Yes, that's why I asked." A regular afternoon that began with a simple question. The young lady sitting on the bus alone just looking out the window. Headphones on her ears and music blasting from it. Her I-Pod in shuffle playing whatever randomly came up. "Are you going to the Bronx?" "Yes." "Me too." "Okay." "I'm surrounded by Brazil, Colombia, and other countries." "I'm from the caribbean." "Are you near Brazil?" "Closer to Puerto Rico and Haiti is next door." "Yes, yes I know." The girl put her headphones back on and listened to music. "Cross Bronx and Beach Avenue, do you know where it is?...

This is a short story I wrote many years ago about domestic violence. Just like the rest of my excerpts it's not edited. “So how exactly do you tell your best friend…umm hey I love you but I’m sleeping with your boyfriend?” Zoe asked before taking a bite from her sandwich. “I mean seriously Jacob I need you to help me.” I met Zoe at a job interview one morning. I was standing behind her in line and she asked me for pen. I reached inside my pants pocket for a pen and handed it to her. From there she began telling me stories about her boyfriend Daniel and how much she loved him. I didn’t really care but I listened because I didn’t want to be rude. Plus she still had my favorite pen in her hand. The line moved slowly and she was now facing me so I had nowhere to hide as she continued talking. I looked around the room trying to think of a way out of it but nothing was working in my favor. There was not a familiar face or anything interesting in the office. She laughed and I cracke...