Morey Cesler
Corey Mesler

The skull on my desk is a memento from Morey, Morey Cesler, my alter ego. It reminds me, like all alter egos should, that I am not a god. Sometimes, when I write, or when I think those thoughts, I forget that I am not a god. Sitting at my desk, surrounded by books and pictures of unattainable beauty, I feel as if my poor health is a phantasm. Sometimes I feel this. Then I look at Morey's skull, then I touch Morey's skull, and I am returned to earth, as I will be some day, surely, in a more concrete way, and sooner than I would wish. This is the news today. That and also that I have started a new short story. It will be shorter than the last one. In it a man like me who is not me will walk into a room with a gun in his hand. He will demand to see his alter ego. What happens after that is anyone's guess. I can't be bothered right now with continuation. Just starting a story, sometimes, is enough to get me through, through one more day, here in the godseat, in these fiddly endtimes.

Corey Mesler's latest novel is We Are Billion-Year-Old Carbon. His first full-length collection of poetry, Some Identity Problems, is just out from Foothills Publishing.

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Photo detail on main page courtesy of Gwyn Fisher.

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