Gregory Greenleaf

I hear it approaching and my hand reaches to my side, where I don't keep my holster. The noise of tires running over the tarred surface intensifies, and at any moment the vehicle will crest the hill.

What follows is the first paragraph of a college admissions essay I asked the artificial intelligence program ChatGPT to write for me. "As a high school student, I have always been drawn to the idea of working in the field of archaeology. While many of my classmates dream of becoming doctors or lawyers, I have always been drawn to the idea of exploring the past and uncovering the secrets that have been hidden beneath the earth for centuries."

I am standing in my backyard and looking up into a tree. Beside me is my loyal black Lab, Echo. He is looking up into the same tree.

Not too long ago I came home from my real job and, upon entering my real home, where my real wife and real kids and real pets live, I saw my real wife pulling out of a shopping bag a real plant.

It was while we were returning from a dad and daughters fishing and swimming trip in Woolwich that Molly mentioned that Calliope, the youngest child, was bleeding.

Sometimes the divide between horror and comedy is not so wide that you have to back up several feet and get a running start to jump across, and even then, feel your heel scrape against the emptiness of the chasm below as you land safely on the other side.

I bring a trash bag when I take my dog for walks along Cundy's Harbor Road. Once I found a giant empty Rubbermaid trash can in the ditch. I used that moment to teach my dog situational irony.

Go here. Go there. But wherever you go and whatever you do, go as fast as possible. If the speed limit is 70 mph, go 75 or 80. The need is always for speed. I don't know what 5G is, but I know it's fast.

One benefit or curse of living in "Vacationland" is having friends and family from away visit you and stay in your home for days and days at a time.

The World Health Organization needs my help. If you haven't heard, the current COVID variants are named after Greek letters and there are only 24 letters available. WHO is seeking a new "nomenclature" to use after omega — the last Greek letter — is assigned.