This feels like an opening Voice Over to some type of comedic action film with a lot of heart set in some dystopian future. Like Guardians of Galaxy meets Lord of War.
Mr. W, I decided to go back to the beginning of your Substack journey. I wanted to see where the signal first broke through the static. *HELLO MORNING – CHAPTER ONE* reads like a survivor’s hymn, bitter and luminous. You don’t just describe the wasteland. You walk it with purpose, dragging the weight of memory and habit like sacred relics.
That line, “If you want a good life, you have to do the work” lands differently here. It’s not a slogan. It’s a vow made in the rubble. You’ve turned morning rituals into resistance, and the act of waving into silence into something almost holy.
I felt the shift from visibility to invisibility. From high-vis vest to glowing in the dark. It’s haunting and strangely beautiful. You’ve become your own warning sign and your own light source.
Thank you for writing from the edge. I’ll keep tracing your steps, chapter by chapter, not to escape the present but to understand how you built meaning from its ruins.
A fun morning jog down to the gallows of dark humour, passing by radioactive post apocalyptic modern day problems.
Thank you so much, I appreciate the time you took to read the story. I’m glad somethings stuck out for you.
"If you want a good life, you have to do the work! I was not going to let the end of the world set me back."
Brilliant.
I’m glad you are enjoying Hello Epic. I am working on Book 2 right now.
Thank you. There is more craziness to unfold. Keep going.
You are a Prince. I appreciate that you read my work.
This feels like an opening Voice Over to some type of comedic action film with a lot of heart set in some dystopian future. Like Guardians of Galaxy meets Lord of War.
I like that. It is a great take away.
Mr. W, I decided to go back to the beginning of your Substack journey. I wanted to see where the signal first broke through the static. *HELLO MORNING – CHAPTER ONE* reads like a survivor’s hymn, bitter and luminous. You don’t just describe the wasteland. You walk it with purpose, dragging the weight of memory and habit like sacred relics.
That line, “If you want a good life, you have to do the work” lands differently here. It’s not a slogan. It’s a vow made in the rubble. You’ve turned morning rituals into resistance, and the act of waving into silence into something almost holy.
I felt the shift from visibility to invisibility. From high-vis vest to glowing in the dark. It’s haunting and strangely beautiful. You’ve become your own warning sign and your own light source.
Thank you for writing from the edge. I’ll keep tracing your steps, chapter by chapter, not to escape the present but to understand how you built meaning from its ruins.
Wow, I am speechless. I appreciate your venture into this world, and I am looking forward to seeing your take from this story. Thank you.
BTW, I called you Mr. W. assuming your first name is Nap... 😉
Updated the audiobook on this one!