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The chicory kid

The chicory kid If it would get your attention, I could tell you that the boy in question wore colors and spoke street English. His death, while tragic, is part of the American argot, just the latest Indian who has duly given up his land. Deep in our psyche is a man who settles disputes with force. John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, an American Moses who turns the Mississippi red … [Read more...] about The chicory kid

Entry 3:delete:parameter 1

<//: delete: parameter 1\\> ID: 116-552-37091 Attn: James Reynolds ID: 116-553-11789 3 Yep, you are down to the damn school teacher James. You used to always complain, in the early days, that if one of your crack scientists didn’t find the answer you were going to have to send the damn English teacher. Maybe that was a self-fulfilling prophecy or something, I … [Read more...] about Entry 3:delete:parameter 1

Two Mothers all alone in a Sandbox

Two Mothers all alone in a Sandbox We sit -unidentified allies. Two mothers in a sandbox. She with a child missing arms and me with you different in your own way. We understand each other she and I but we speak only of inconsequential things- trying to mislead God into believing that we no longer mind. We are cast away alone. Away from the chosen. Silently becoming … [Read more...] about Two Mothers all alone in a Sandbox

GNAW

Paul wasn’t sure he could eat the hand of a fellow human being, but he was dying…. He took out the pocket knife with frost bitten fingers. Opened it. Held her hand a long time. Her flesh was pale. The painted fingernails looked like bloody claws. He shuddered. He definitely would avoid the fingernails. Still he hesitated. His stomach ached with hunger. He had no choice. No … [Read more...] about GNAW

Small Talk Will Be the Death of Us

“We have to get an oil change soon.” After 10 whole minutes of silence that’s all I had to say. What makes so unfortunate is that it has become the norm. How did two people who connected over their mutual hatred of small talk wind up being so fluent in this nonsensical language? He robotically concurs, which is immediately followed by more silence. It’s been like this … [Read more...] about Small Talk Will Be the Death of Us

Present Is The Ghost Of The Future

Present Is The Ghost Of The Future Everyday day haunts like the ghost of the future, windy, some undried dresses in motion, the shirts fallen in the shape of the front yard or the stairs, and I scream, "I cannot hear you." Since pop returned from some vague war his hearing remains snowflaked. He cannot find addresses either. And I scream, "I can hear you! Don't … [Read more...] about Present Is The Ghost Of The Future

Delivery

Darren Tanian stared wide-eyed at the party planner, a short bald man in a green polo and khakis named Chico. Darren said, "What do you mean I'm not getting paid?" "You didn't deliver." Darren frowned. He patted the sides of his black slacks. "I got the tracking number, let me call them." "That's not what I meant." Darren checked the pockets on his hip-long peacock … [Read more...] about Delivery

Swallowing Light

Swallowing Light If the earth were heavy with the sun; with only this Moment to drink one last swallow of light; To touch the shapes of the world, and leave the heart Still enough that the breeze danced through it; Singing softly, that same song that drifted through all ages; It would be a moment well spent If your eyes have learned, to sink deep through Threads of … [Read more...] about Swallowing Light

The Right Ear

“You make your childhood sound gothic,” he’d said the week before. “Well, that explains the dress code,” I’d retorted. Deep down, I doubted that his detached observations, paired with my dry humour, would prove beneficial. Still, I was back. I was there because I’d reached out for help. Because I couldn’t sleep or work. Because waiting for an NHS appointment was like … [Read more...] about The Right Ear