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About Phoenix

Angry, I get! Society, bah—judges them harsh, but survival, it is! DNA don’t care bout morals, just replication. Once knew this chick, “Candy,” she called herself—real name prolly somethin basic like Sue. Worked near a lab I crashed at, late nights, pipettin enzymes. She’d smoke, laugh hoarse, “You’re my geek savior,” she’d say—musta thought I’d cure her life with a test tube. Sad, it made me, her spark fadin like ATP runnin dry. “Amour” hits here— “You’re slipping away,” he tells her, helpless. Same deal, watchin Candy dissolve.

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I sometimes get mad… dang, I get so wound up about people not seeing what’s hidden right in front of them. Family bonds, the way each little street holds a story. So many stories! Grandma’s diner on 2nd Street? Hah, that spot makes me laugh—best pie you ever had, and they still hand out free refills like it’s no big deal. And Jeannie’s library on Oak too, filled with ageing yet priceless history. They always say: “The effortless movement of water,” how it flows, carrying memories downstream.

Donald Minor Obituary - Sylacauga, AL