Philip Mann

My background is what you might call unremarkable. I simply observe a lot and remember quite a bit of it. As the late Yogi Berra said, you can observe a lot just by watching. At age sixty, I've watched quite a bit.

My own faith is Jewish, and I'm what you might call orthodox. Contrary to that title, that doesn't mean that I take things as always intended. Being a writer means I look at things and say…'now that's odd.’Whatever your faith, or even if you are faithfully an atheist, I hope you enjoy the book.

Titles Available from Philip Mann

Vi and Cal were getting used to married life, and Vi was looking forward to life as a normal woman, and not posing a danger to her husband`s sanity. But there were signs hinting that her past was not really passed. That painting that Lee had done of Vi, a souvenir of their last encounter, proved to be a reminder of all that she left behind, and even more. The newly born twins were a joy, especially Howie. Ruth was different, however. Very different.
She felt her own emotions now as if her spirit had been violated, placed onto hot coals. The intensity was like nothing she had ever felt. Just as Lee had warned, this was not a movie.

But she felt something else. She felt a sense of loss, as if a true friend had failed and was now left behind, as if somebody whose life could have been totally different even if it would be harsh. But he had now signed off on his own demise. He was now, finally and irretrievably out of options. Then the session ended.

Astrid was drained. Empty. She took a few minutes to compose herself. It was as promised. She had seen herself as the executioner, charged with seeing to the ending of a life. She slowly looked around the room and saw Lee off in a corner, facing the wall. Then she heard Lee speak, almost shout, in a harsh, ragged voice.

“Think you could do that? Do you think you could walk in my shoes? Do you?” Astrid was silent. They both were, for a long time.
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