Posts from the “Uncategorized” Category

Tuna

Posted on September 15th, 2013

The cat thought it the most interesting thing, at that moment, of there being food left in front of an unguarded door. There was nothing to discourage him from trying the tuna, which naturally discouraged him, and he didn’t feel hungry, which only left him unsatisfied and insatiably needing something. His diamond black eyes wondered occasionally at the balcony from the other side of the complex, knowing he was nearly 500 feet from where the can had been mysteriously placed. He was perched on a thick, white rail, which swayed heartlessly, but he managed to balance himself. He was a cat and he was light. Pst, pst, pst. C’mere, pst, pst, pst. He could hear the rattle from the bottle. His food — brown…

The Worlds

Posted on June 12th, 2013

Maybe she is a crook, dutifully hunting for her next bite on the whim of the prodding sea air. My nibble on her lure is sincere and swearing. We promise our unmasked selves, our vast insecurities. Watching the fish make circles around the glimmering plastic was a pleasant pastime of mine, for their watery dashes would stay permanent in the sea, like the lines of a pencil filled in a playbook, and sometimes I would tease them and erase their marks with a quick flutter of my tailfin through their plans. She, the fisherman, would come daily, early in the morning when the sun barely cast itself through the cold, cold water, but don’t mind me, for I guess the water is below a…

Shade

Posted on May 7th, 2013

When I was younger, I was obsessed with climbing the trees in my backyard. We had many different kinds. There was the apple – which I had planted myself –the oak, and a few willow trees. On one of the sunniest days of summer, a few weeks before I would begin the fourth grade, I squinted my way through our backyard. I was running after our pet rabbit, which I had accidentally let loose. He was much too fast for me, however, and I breathlessly gave up the chasing and hoped he would tire himself out. I looked around the yard and smiled at one of the trees closest to the house. It was our favorite, giving shade to use and adventure to seek…

Ricochet

Posted on March 31st, 2013

“You’re dwelling,” the moth started to play with my eyelashes, twirling its light body in sporadic spins. I groaned, “Not you again,” I swiped at the air and asked, “Dwelling?” “You sure are, are dwelling,” he did a big spin around my head, avoiding the smoke from a nearby cigarette. You could hear a ding each time he went through one of the thin smoke rings. “Where am I dwelling? That word’s starting to sound funny now. Dwell, dwelling, dwell.” “You’re dwelling in the past,” the moth landed on the shelf where my feet were resting and I tried to kick him away, but he wouldn’t be scared off. In a moment of weakness, I spied on the swallow. “Oh, now you’re just being…

Desire Comes, Desire Fades

Posted on February 19th, 2013

For then, that day really, she sat by her phone and thought of the rat, Whiskers, back home. The sedentary creature was likely napping, lying in a lap and basking in the fake warmth that came with revealing the formerly unspeakable. That was the kind of rat Whiskers was, full of little secrets told in smoky rooms, later sprinkled with hot, unattractive lies. Whiskers was the quick-witted, long tailed, fattened rat whose ears perked at your loneliness and whose teeth gnawed away your insecurities. Little do you know, that there’s so little we know. Damn moles. There was a 7 hour time difference, from one coast to the other, each wave crashed heavily on either of the beaches, like a symphony of bass instruments,…

Riff Raff

Posted on January 28th, 2013

The moon was sliced right down the middle, so perfectly in half, and though they knew it was the sun’s harsh beams that made it appear incomplete, they took it in and said it was okay. Tomorrow night would be different. It wouldn’t always look so partial. To her, it was lonely. He could see the reflection of it in her eyes, out of the corner of his own, and he wanted to comfort her, tell her that he would always be there to draw the complete moon with his index finger. There were Christmas songs playing, the happy ones that made them think of past Christmases around fake plastic trees guarded by hastily wrapped gifts barely worth a dollar or two. They kept…

Deadpan

Posted on January 18th, 2013

You kick the dog in the hallway, hear it give the tiniest yelp, and avoid any mention of emotion. You have your light hair covering your left eye as you follow her. As you lay down first, you dart your head upwards, stare at that white ceiling and the cobwebs forming in the corners. Still no show of emotion, but it feels like fireworks are being set off in your shoe. There’s the stinging on your fingertips on each patch of her skin, the perpetual ping on your eardrum, and stabs of the numbness crawling up your calf. The way she bites your neck is making your jaw open, left ajar cause you resist making sounds. There are temporary red stains randomly on your…

Maelstroms

Posted on December 18th, 2012

My shoes were soaked, crunching the snow and making my presence known to the silent sidewalks. I swore I was alone, even though you were beside me. I kept turning around, looking at those heavy steps I had just created, and they left such clear imprints that I was surprised to see your feet hadn’t left a single mark. You took my hand, trying to distract me from your disappearing footprints, and you said something about the storm and how attractive it was to see the snowfall on the trees, protecting their roof and drawing canopies. I took a sip from the bottle of wine we were walking with and its bitterness graced my palate and made my heart warmer. You took the bottle…

Aligned

Posted on November 27th, 2012

Miss drew the line. It was vertical and oddly straight. The shading from the pencil was thick, never wavering its size and she wished she could be in that line, or at least on the other side of it. These drawings were such personal endeavors. She wasn’t an artist, but she liked these projects, these experiments that required only one warm, hunched body. This time was different though because she had company. Mister was sitting across from her and he was drawing a house, she could see that clearly. Miss stopped herself because she was about to draw one as well and she thought it would be too strange if they both had the same ideas. She turned the paper ninety degrees and thought…

Run Away

Posted on November 10th, 2012

When you’re young, they tell you it takes practice. They tell you not to worry if you lose. They tell you there will be other opportunities. Take chances. No regrets. Be trite when you’re in a corner. When you do finally win, your trainer will tell you to be humble and to expect the rules and the players to change, rotate, and evolve – to become better than you. Because when you do win, when you collect your coins and put them in your front left pocket for everyone to see, you are still just another player in a world of them. And even if the coins glow this bright red color, seen right through your white-collared shirt, most people disregard it, because we’re…