I feel like a potato in a potato sack. Covered in corse, rough, utterly disgusting, Burlap. Perhaps the ugliest material in the word- burlap. I wake up at eight, ride the Number 26 bus to work, get there by nine, and the rest is just an endless stream of burlap. Nine to five, nothing but … Continue reading Burlap Cubicles
Blain never had to go anywhere. Although he often went places, he never did so out of necessity. Long walks and late night bus rides had become increasingly necessary for Him to deal with his life. Blain wasn’t sure why he couldn’t sleep at night anymore without riding the Number 26 bus around for at … Continue reading Blain (Part 2)
Alvin’s room had not been this clean since the day he first stepped into it while checking the new vacancy. That was before he had the time to make any kind of a mess. Although, a close second may have been when his friend Moe gave him some Adderall to help him write a term … Continue reading Alvin
I heroically led the charge. Screaming at the top of my lungs as I sprinted towards the oncoming wall of water. Leaping over the tiny smaller waves before it, smashing through them, destroying them, regaining my footing underwater, and charging onwards, my plastic shovel held high up in the air, the sunlight reflecting off the red plastic. I could hear the ranks of the shell army cheering behind me as I led the charge.
The last stop along the Number 26 bus line lies just on the edge of town, near a cliff ledge looking out over the ocean. If you happen to want to get off here, you have to ring the bell not to stop the bus, but to tell the driver to keep going on. The … Continue reading The Lighthouse
Nothing makes me feel more present, more in the moment, than winter. The cold is a constant reminder that I’m still alive- that I’m still cold. That I’m a living thing that can be cold. The wind shoots right through me, bounces and ricochets against the bones in my rib cage, and seeps out … Continue reading Winter Evergreens
The day was gray. The kind of day where it rains all the way through. Subtle rain, so subtle you’d forget it was even there, if not for the occasional reminding rain drops atop the head or on the shoulder. Water just sort of accumulates over everything, as if the clouds got lazy and decided … Continue reading Hole in the Hedge Grove