025

025

But that’s the whole point of the game: to lose yourself, to choose yourself, to put your own self up on the shelf; to get lost in the game, to get found in its fame, to pick yourself a whole new name; to re-do it all, to let it all fall, to break down the entire fourth wall; to roll the dice again, that’s it, to try it just one more time; don’t admit that it’s going well. There’s no…

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024

024

It doesn’t feel like Friday, my day: it feels more like lie day, cry day, can’t stop, won’t stop, but will try day; okay day, go outside and play day, find a church and pray day, “Be that as it may,” day, pay day; planning day, too cold for fanning day, too cloudy for tanning day; EVERYTHING IN CAPS DAY, “Keep it under wraps,” day, catch it with a trap day; gossip– toss it– loss of it day; too much…

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Objection

Objection

“Objection,” Council whispered. “I beg your pardon?” “Objection,” he said louder, his chair sliding out from under him as he stood up. “Objection, your honor.” “Well, what is your objection, Council?” the Judge asked. “My objection? Well isn’t it obvious, your Honor?” the Prosecution asked. “Obviously not,” the Defense said, stepping away from the witness stand. “So please clarify your objection during a direct examination.” “Well,” Prosecution trailed off, walking slowly out from behind his table. His hands caught themselves behind him as…

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Dearest

Dearest

Dearest Johnathan, I hope this letter finds you well. It seems as though all the letters I have sent previously had made no progress; but one must not let the angel fly far without wings. Noella’s success seems to be less because of her own intelligence and more because of her husband’s, but that is neither here nor there. Her child will grow up rich and away, and I suppose that is all that matters. The Western front is not…

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023

023

I hear static in my voice, in my mind. I hear static every day, all the time, I hear static, when I’m trying not to panic when I’m trying not to stress it but someone tends to press it and then I just hear static. Outside and inside, I hear static, when there’s no where to hide. I hear static, it’s all to emphatic, it’s all too much, to shrink to the touch, to fall under a crutch, to believe…

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022

022

It’s a strange thing, isn’t it, when the right things don’t fit, when the things you don’t understand become the things in highest demand. When you spend all day trying to figure out what all the fuss was about. Then it hits you. It’s probably love, isn’t it, that always seems to fit, that makes you able to understand why everything’s in highest demand, why they do those things you couldn’t figure out, and you’re what all the fuss was about….

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021

021

If you’re reading this, you’ve been in a coma for the past twenty years. We don’t know what went wrong, but it’s worse than all our fears. The doctor messed up somewhere along the line, and now your life is simply running out of time. So even though everything you know right now is wrong, our tests show it hasn’t lasted for long, We are your real family and friends, and you might not remember, but you used to be…

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Funeral Tissues

Funeral Tissues

It never occurred to me how many tissues are kept in a funeral home. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, always stocked and ready to be re-stocked when ever someones comes by. Funeral homes are so specific. What other place is so specific to one situation that everyone knows exactly what’s going on right when you step into the room? Maybe that’s why I work there, because of the certainty. Because nothing else is so certain as someone walking in. Because…

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Eye Stones

Eye Stones

I don’t know why I thought so, but it was all breathtaking. Every place I thought I already knew in my motherland was seen in a new light, a new bright light, overtaking any other memory that tried to push its way to my attention.  “We’re headed to the College,” they said, and I thought nothing of it. I knew my parents wanted me to go there, for sure, to have a solid job and a solid life, everything set ahead…

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020

020

Welcome to insomnia: the book with no genre, the play with no drama, the eye with no cornea. The land of dreams that’s dead at the seems. It’s strange to live inside, because in a way, to hide, is to be what you are inside. Left to your own devices, you learn your own rights and treat yourself right. The darkness may engulf everything but the midnight wolf, and yet you know you’re still there, undaunted by the suffocating air….

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White

White

White was too pure for me, even then. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t take the fact that if something- anything– touched the wall, then it was ruined. The whole thing. Because you can’t paint over a white wall. The spot you paint over, if you do, will look newer. Whiter. Some kind of different shade of light grey that you didn’t intend to see. And I can’t deal with that. I can’t deal with the brightness of the color, either….

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Before Limbo

Before Limbo

It’s the climb that I wait for. The climb, the anticipation, the buildup and the suspense- because the second it all snaps and you’re caught in limbo, the “no g-zone”, the free-fall, that’s where the food comes back up. That’s where, time and time again, the regret of two hot dogs and a hamburger come to haunt you. It’s the moment just before all of that, just before your mind at night says, “Yes, well, here’s all the times in life…

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019

019

“Say cheese,” she said, even though she knew I wouldn’t. “Smile, for me,” she urged, even though she knew I couldn’t. There’s something mysterious about photos in a forest because if you’re lost among the trees, you can’t be a tourist because those drones stay in the cities, among money and parks; they couldn’t possibly understand, underestimate, the power of the barks. They talk to me, is what I have to say, to tell a story, but don’t you go…

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What Do Theorists Think Of?

What Do Theorists Think Of?

She was laying on her back, her hair splayed all over the main deck. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Clive asked, looking nervously over the railing. “But of course we are,” the Theorist sighed, rolling on her back to pull herself upright. She hugged her knees and looked over at him. “Don’t you think so? I’d like to think so.” “What a strange thing to say,” Clive said sarcastically. He gripped the rails too tight, the Theorist could…

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Coffee Talk

Coffee Talk

I tapped my coffee mug impatiently, my gaze lost on the greenest grass outside. “Where do you think words go when you burn them?” Arabella paused. “…What?” “You know,” I said, taking my fidgeting hands off the hot ceramic. I put them into a tight ball. “When you.. burn them?” I left my hands pull apart and gently fly up into the air before falling back down in the same fashion. “Poof.” “Why are you burning words? Oliver, are you…

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018

018

In short terms, it’s a long walk. It’s a long way over and a long way down, a long way up and a long way around. A bright way there and a bright way back, and bright way along the never ending track. The twists and turns never seem to end, the simple wood planks never seem to bend. But trust in me when I say that there will be a better day when that road can be better traveled…

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Just Beyond June

Just Beyond June

“I could sit here forever,” she said. “I could just sit here forever.” “Could you?” I muttered, hugging my knees. “Could you really?” “With you?” she smiled brightly. “Of course.” The sun burned. It burned my face, my skin, my heart, my soul. It burned to the deepest core that it could reach and back again, filling me with a haunting type of warmth. My only defense was to wish, to pray, for the cold, for the dark and the…

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The Perfect Murder

The Perfect Murder

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.   It’s a curious thing, isn’t it, that as quickly we come into the world we can be taken out. A piano, a puddle, a lake, a knife, a sledge hammer– one moment we’re walking, the next we’re walking the Stairway. But what’s even stranger about our predicament is the person behind it. It can never be solved. It can never be heard of, and it can never be redone. The knife has to be…

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017

017

The clouds were like continents, trying to learn their constants, floating across the sky for compliments, and receiving them all the same. There was never war over a single star because they could stray so far as to be too far away. But they slowly found that the longer they were there the longer they realized their lives weren’t fair and even the clouds began to cry. But before we could realize what was wrong we had already spent far…

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John

John

There were thousands of islands. The curve of the Earth did not limit the expanse of the water nor the innumerable islands. Each one looked hand-crafted, if anyone were to have such large hands, and seemed similar, but not exactly the same. I tilted my head, reaching my hands out, just to feel the salty air atop my own island. On this sandy getaway, I had a single, leaning palm tree, and a few of its fruit children. There used to…

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