As You Are: My Husband, My Friend.

He sat beside the window and waved her goodbye. She watched him leave, her head following the boneshaker till the cloud of smoke from its exhaust pipe slowly settled, leaving dust where the rickety bus once stood. In silence, she turned around towards whence she had come; through the ticket office, into a porch, then … Continue reading As You Are: My Husband, My Friend.

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Between the Hours: A Boring Look, at a Tired Existence.

From the wired netting of her window she stared blankly at leaves collectively swaying to their own gentle rhythm. It was that time of day between 5 P.M and 6, where if you were not too caught up in traffic or closing shop or engaged in some activity that demanded a certain degree of your … Continue reading Between the Hours: A Boring Look, at a Tired Existence.

On Another Could Have Been (A Soliloquy From the Third Perspective)

Even as the sun sinks beneath two mountain peaks  As certain to rise again as I am to be alive the day after tomorrow, I contemplate the could have beens that never was. So many of them, scattered in a history of high adrenaline conversations  finally caving in to exhaustive hellos and how are you's … Continue reading On Another Could Have Been (A Soliloquy From the Third Perspective)

Liar Liar.

The skinny old man was shaking all over as he led him inside, the odor around him sinister. What was it really with mortuary-men and alcohol? The ghost stories were not real, they couldn’t be. If God did not exist, then ghosts didn’t either, and hell, he knew for a fact God didn’t