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Last week was spent where blue meets blue: Vancouver. I bounced around from discussing medical pedagogy to particular forms of literary criticism to eating fresh Pacific salmon. I walked along a beach. I stood at the base of mountains. I had never been to Vancouver before. The brush of green against gray, the inevitable rain … Continue reading
Okay, so here’s the story. A man is travelling. He’s a merchant. Moves here. Sells there. Moves somewhere else. Has a family that he’s supporting. Wife and kids. Usual stuff. Takes on an arduous life for them. Migrating and not seeing them and getting money only to send it back, which lets him send more … Continue reading
I’m afraid that this is just typing and not writing and if it was writing it would not sound so much like typing because all I can hear are the clicking and clacking and thump-thump-thump. Is that a heartbeat? Or is it just my finger’s pulse? I cannot tell because I have to write this … Continue reading
The sun dies in the room when you block the window. I should have heard you come in, but I was writing a letter. Few things can disturb me in the mesmerisation of composition. It wasn’t so much the content, but the mantra of art. A writer who stops writing for anything else but more … Continue reading
The following was influenced by Albert Camus quote, “Should I kill myself or have a cup of coffee?” * Should I kill myself or update my Facebook? Maybe I can see how many likes I can get instead. That’d be nice. It could also not be nice, though. I could get three only. How many … Continue reading
I am convinced that if there is anything like happiness, it is found in belly button lint. Take a look, and you’ll see clothes contained in a little hole that opens its hungry mouth at every moment. Press up against it. Have a person grab you close. Walk slowly, hesitantly through the falling leaves in … Continue reading
Five years from now: Before I hear the knock, my hand is in his guts. Blood climbs my elbow, but the guy doesn’t notice. Just lays there as his pancreas then his small intestine then is large intestine wiggle around awkwardly like a highschool dance. His appendix groans. It is inflated so much that a … Continue reading
The following was something I wrote on March 6th. I’m sorry that there was ever the need to write it. * I lived beside Justin Stark for ten years. You may not know him. You may have read about him in the newspaper recently. Either way, I want you to meet him as I did: … Continue reading
On the night I died, I watched myself. I was pulled from my body and stood above myself like an angel on a Christmas tree: there I was, sleeping, no snoring, and I rocked in a soft bed. The sheets smelled. The stench rose as high as I did. I tried to climb higher, but … Continue reading
I saw her through the rain. It rained often here, though I didn’t notice it much anymore. In such a little town, the rain was inevitable. Expected even. Most got used to it. They would find a place very much like where I am now – a coffee shop symphony with forks clattering and spoons … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 