She was too happy to enjoy being happy. She knew it couldn’t last and so spoiled the moment by keeping an eye around the corner to see what might be coming to bust her bubble.
Stars
In front of me were two of the most brilliantly shining stars I had ever seen.
They were in your eyes.
Goals
Her mother asked the young girl what sort of relationship she hoped to have when she grew up and was surprised by the force of her answer. It was as idealistic as it was demanding: “I want something inevitable, ineluctable—the rest is settling.”
Shambles
One shot and he is dead. Though dry eyed dragging the bloody corpse, she breaks down when she drops his limp body in the hole and his collar jingles.
Through Your Eyes
I saw a narcissistic, self-absorbed child of a woman whose head was full of ego-stroking thoughts conceived to convince her that somehow in a world populated by billions of people she will come out on top, dominantly straddling everything that smells of fame and fortune even though her life is so dull and utterly meaningless thus far – who has only loved (or pretended to love) her family, her friends, and me so that she can selfishly build up the foundations of a fan base who admires her endlessly and gives her the attention she needs in order to remain blind to her insecurities, short-comings and failures.
That’s what happened when I looked through your eyes – looked through your eyes at me.
Still Unenlightened
One morning in Cordoba, brushing my teeth, I thought again of eternity and of absolutely ceasing to exist and I admit I cannot exist conscious of either inevitability—the only way in which I can function is to distract myself from how we all must end. That this idea came to the surface again only proved to me I see the end of this trip—on some level—as a little death, a preview of the real thing, the end of choices, the irrelevance of regret.
$he
He was young and handsome. She was rich and bitchy.
Green-blooded Mutant
I watched in horror or perhaps in awe as he slowly scalped the fur off its entire body and stabbed a knife deep into its flesh, drawing an oozing, bubbling blood that was green and not red.
He put a chunk of – the alien, the mutant? – right up to my lips and said, “Here, you’ve got to try some of this kiwi.”
I and Eyes
I love you.
Eyes love somebody else.
relationships
When night – he licks my clit When day – he says me I must pick things and get out
Blind date.
The dreamer asked me once, who was that woman he fancied every night. His voice seemed to be so familiar to me.
Disappointment
He finally understood what literally drove him to distraction: that whatever he’d been waiting for, been waiting to happen, simply hadn’t happened. Whoever was supposed to never showed up.
c’est la vie
I thought he loved me. Turned out he didn’t.
Pretty Little Writer
I had long grown accustomed to the light that shone off her face like mystic white porcelain when the darkness of night surrounded us that was not from the glow of candlelight but was rather produced by the screen of the laptop she balanced on top of her thighs.
As the steady tap-tap-tap of the keyboard under her pretty-but-agile little fingers lulled me nearly to sleep, I took in a deep, fulfilling breath and sighed with the pleasure of knowing that my beloved wasn’t just any woman – she was a writer.
Upstairs Apartment
I touched myself for a bit, listening to the rumbling of the couple upstairs. Then I heard her scream and the thumping stopped.
Conflicted
He resolved that he should just find someone to live all his life out with him and be his physical (if not emotional/mental/spiritual) source of comfort. Then he immediately resolved that that was like taking a person like a drug to ease the pain of reality, and that he didn’t believe it and hadn’t believed it even when he first thought it.
Denial
He was often heard lamenting his metabolism and the fact that he could not lose weight. Yet it was difficult for people to make out exactly what he was saying, since this often occurred while his mouth was full of fried green tomatoes.
Life’s Equation
Positively believing that we are in the primes of our lives, it is only when we multiply and create offspring that we truly see what the adding of years has done to us and realize that our entire equation served as the means to a product comprised of us yet entirely different. Now that there’s no way to subtract the years and start over again, I am left to wonder if my tiny part in the equation will be remembered down the road long after the calculations are complete, or if all my factors shall fade away.
Impossible
When she fell very ill, she wanted to go home, and would have gone home. But the fourteen hour flight back seemed as unfathomable as staying around, waiting it out, and carrying on.
A Scent, a Memory
“How about this one?” Jeremy asked after spritzing the cologne onto a paper tab and holding it right up to my nostrils.
“No!” I shouted almost too immediately, thrusting his hand away, but my memory had already whisked me swiftly away back into Frederick’s strong arms that held me firmly but swayed me delicately back and forth, back and forth to the subtle music of the cold wind that rushed through the celadon fields of the Falklands in a way that made individual blades of grass take turns reflecting the sun’s iridescent light, and as we stood there on that rocky cliff overlooking the edge of eternity, tears clinging desperately to our cheeks but ultimately plummeting to their death, he begged me please oh please don’t go.