The Truth is not always stable. It seems to move around a lot. It also has many angles. And there are many directions from which to come upon Truth. That is to say that Truth has no defined coordinates. Truth can be discovered but not made to stay still. It is a bit like living vapor that must be breathed in, do its work, then exhaled back into the ether of existence.

But it is not vapor. Truth is solid, permanent, never changing, and always available.

It is the same with memories. Memories are, also, not always stable. Edgar Allen Poe called them irregular memories. We are never sure if we remember things as they were, or simply how we believed them to be. Our minds can be filled with a churning caldron of either pleasant or miserable memories. Yet, we insist that our minds embrace those memories because, and I believe this about all memories, life is filled with three things: bad memories, good memories, and irregular memories.

Welcome to my newest collection of short stories (with a couple of poems) that offer my brand of truth in fiction form.

There's a little fantasy, a little mystery, a little romance (kind of), a little science fiction, even a little murder.

And guess what? You get to be the final judge to decide who is right and who is wrong... because I'm not telling.