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The following was published in Incite, December 2013, during their time theme. It’s loud nonsense. * “Shouldn’t we be dead?” “Maybe we already are?” “I don’t think so.” “What do you mean?” “Well, I mean, I’m here, wherever that may be, and you’re there, wherever that may be.” “You sound so far away, though.” “So do … 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
In the beginning, there was a boy and a grandmother and they were sitting together in a nearly empty room. Wooden chairs gobbled up little of the free space. Dusty curtains vacuumed out the sun. The boy was wedged on a sofa. Patches of the cushion tickled his leg. Newspaper crinkled under his butt. Each time … Continue reading
A reborn story. I wanted it to be up here by itself, rather than submerge it within another. Give it its own legs to walk on, so to speak. * She had just given birth and he released he didn’t love her. He shifted his stance from one foot to another, dancing in spot to … Continue reading
I’m drunk and feeling good and I might as well tell them. Heck. They keep asking questions. So many questions. Why this? Why that? Why aren’t you answering truthfully? They aren’t saying the last one, but it’s suggested in their shrugs and their coughs and the silence afterwards. They can tell I’m dodging. They see … Continue reading
I sometimes think that if the sun would explode, I wouldn’t notice. I’d just wake up like I always do with a grunt and a heavy hand hitting snooze. Another alarm would go off and another grumble would accompany it. We’d battle for the airwaves – an electronic cacophony and a Cro-Magnon vestigial etymology – … Continue reading
For Christ’s sake, I am an idiot. Listen up: I wrote some two thousand words but still wasn’t able to fit the Apocalypse in an essay; the Armageddon in twelve point font. Isn’t that what writing is about? Hold on to your hats. The topic I wish to understand better is something that has been … Continue reading
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