Jules fingered the curl on her cheek, so pale below the light eyes, still of lash, directionless or finding infinity.
But her lobe burned his finger tips, a door on fire warning, don’t look at the bruising neck adorned simply with a rope.
Reminiscing
He said he used to play with the ‘Dead’, John explained to his asylum cell-mate while watching Sam strum his guitar as well as Jerry Garcia had in his day.
Smiling to himself, Sam reminisced about the nights spent in his dad’s mortuary.
Scale
The ridiculous secret of their lovemaking wasn’t covered by the music he always put on.
Imagine a thunderous storm apparently concealed by the tinkling of a music box to get an idea of scale.
Going back home
She stood in the middle of her empty apartment, once filled with furnishings, mementos, and dreams. She turned and walked out the door without bothering to lock it, leaving only the dreams behind.
The puppy
One night I was coming home from college with my friend then she looked out side and asked what that was outside on a leash. She brought inside and said it was a puppy then I said my address on it then i said “that’s the dead corpse of my old pet puppy.
The pet
I came home after a long day of college and see an adorable puppy running down my hall. I realize I don’t own any animals.
Home is the Sailor
Lost and lurking near the harbor after dusk, dark gray hoodie and heavy laden, he slips then stumbles headlong down the waterfront, landing in a tumble against the pier. Slowly, straining, stretching, pulling from deep within his burden and tucking around his legs, remnant of a cast-off navy blanket and crust of earth decide his berth.
Around
Turning the corner one last time, I lean into my stride.
With legs pumping, chest heaving, and arms raised, I finally complete the marathon.
Hear me
Hear me laughing.
Hear me lying.
Zombie Hunter
I have one aspiration in life.
I will be a Zombie Hunter.
Writer’s Block
My heart pounds in my chest as thoughts of bankrupting my family and being homeless fill my head with terror and my chest with pressure, all because I quit my job to follow my dream of writing full time.
I never realized a blank white page could shout fear enough to make my hands shake and hope enough to make me dream.
What?
What do you want, I asked my thirteen-year-old impatiently.
Nothing, she snapped.
Best Friend
When he dropped out of school I did too, I got married right after him, had kids and killed my wife for the insurance just like he did.
I followed his plunge off the Westgate Bridge too, finally answering “yes” to Mums timeless question.
The Visitor
You come home to see your wife. You don’t know which is more creepy,seeing your dead wife or knowing that someone broke in to kill her.
The Visitor
You come home to see your wife. You don’t know which is more creepy,seeing your dead wife or knowing that someone broke in to kill her.
Dumping the Pain
I sat, agonizing, wishing I’d made a different choice, and hoping the pain would end soon. After one last, sharp twinge expelled the demon mass from my body, I sighed, flushed, and went to rejoin the party, grabbing a cheese ball on the way.
Revolution
Wasn’t it funny that I used to joke that you’d be first against the wall when the revolution came?
Before they shot you I swear I saw you laughing.
Writer
Another day passed without me writing anything.
I wonder how long this will continue before I stop calling myself a writer.
Married
In the year he turned twenty-four he fell in love with four women.
He married the third.
Exterminator
I called another exterminator to deal with the rats in my basement. This one hasn’t come out either.