I saw your billboard today – the one you signed, 
the one that said:  Life is short. 
Eternity isn’t.  
God
 
I wondered about your punctuation, why you created two 
stand-alone sentences.  I would have used a semicolon 
because it seems more powerful to connect the two –
you know, like dying may seem scary on its own 
but if you think this short life is like a day in the park compared
to what comes next, the threat of eternity really picks up some steam.  
I’m sorry – it’s presumptuous of me to instruct You on punctuation 
but I feel more and more presumptuous these days.  It could be eternity
but I think it’s really just another day looming like the next  eight or 10 hours 
and all it will take to make my way through.  I’m tired, 
you know?  You must know.  Have you ever considered 
reincarnation – how nice it might be to have a good long rest as a tree, rooted 
in earth but able to rustle and sway?  It sounds pretty great to me.  
The thing is, I’m not clear about your whole eternity plan.  Keeping people out –
that part feels familiar – it’s pretty much the way things work around here too.  
But have you ever considered just letting us all in – every single person 
you made no matter what our short lives offered 
or withheld?  I don’t know.  It is lovely to think about
though.  I like to picture you pondering it; (semicolon) 
I like to picture you considering the possibility of another way.
 

You’re a nickel 
of a thing, same
color,you fling
yourself akimbo and not
like a frog at all.
You’re a child
no matterhow old,
you heedless bit, 
squashable from lack 
of consideration 
for stomp, 
you and your 
careless gaze.  
No grace, no reason,
all go.  Plaintive peanut
of perpetual resound.
You common 
implausibility, 
intimate
with ground.
Water born
lung breatheryou
too small to be called 
quitswhen come
what may.  You’re hope
looking down, every kind 
of possibility
unbound.
 

Remote Control

A New Medical Thriller by Paula Bernstein

  Dr. Alanna Davidson’s life is upended when her father is shot and paralyzed the same night a cutting-edge medical robot is stolen from his laboratory at DARPA. Three years later, the crime remains unsolved. Alanna, now a senior resident at Los Angeles Memorial Hospital, is puzzled when high-profile patients start dying unexpectedly after routine surgeries and resolves to investigate the deaths. At the same time, the LAPD is tracking a serial killer with a surgical signature who is leaving bodies in the most dangerous neighborhoods of the city. When a Memorial resident becomes the newest victim, Alanna’s investigation leads to her father’s stolen robot and to a predatory healthcare company intent on taking over Memorial Hospital. But Alanna’s sleuthing draws the killer’s attention. Not only her career, but her life is now in danger. "Smart, relentless, and terrifyingly plausible, Remote Control fuses cutting-edge medical technology with chilling suspense. I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough watching Dr. Alanna risk everything to uncover a truth more sinister than you could ever imagine!" — Laurie Stevens, author of the Gabriel McRay Thriller Series. Available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Books2Read, or ask for it at your local independent bookstore.

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