Showing posts with label creative writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creative writing. Show all posts

Friday, August 22, 2025

about the sense of a lost dream

Your body stops metabolizing after exposurefever, suffering, no help through difficult hours remaining you put a thousand ideas in the universe nobody could see you. Certain a borg is a sign your mind is gone to flicker yet next season approaches as memories get thicker of teens in the garage 5 feet into the rain. Keep rounding until past is as big as a house and I cannot see these curled dimensions.
 
Electrons annihilate the charge and burn down the distance between us two stars.

Thursday, July 03, 2025

fictional note A47

I walk around town and observe homeless activity. The city deploys staff to calculate my next movements. I confronted one staffer and said, "This is gonna be rough if you want to follow me over here and see this for yourself. I am the one having to go into these situations." He did not say anything, but we shared an understanding.
 

Sunday, May 25, 2025

about legal drama "Judge Judy"

The judge stated the facts of the case. The couple had lived together and have one child. The woman also has children from a different relationship. The judge asked how many. In this courtroom built from concrete composite such a shame and brick, finished with mother's defiant girl and wood paneling she tilted her head down in answer, "Two. Two other children." Stain spread wings when life's changes happen in only a few words.

Saturday, May 24, 2025

a fictional note about the barbecue

Jim invites you and a few of the other dads on the block to watch Sunday football at his house and eat barbecue. You discuss the importance of a good offensive line with one dad and begin to suspect he has a urinary tract infection. He searches your eyes for recognition, but now you deny him.

Later in life, the doctor, nurse, physician's assistant, medical technician, nurse practitioner, and the patient himself watch his dark urine course through the tubing.


Sunday, April 20, 2025

about Sunday morning

The way I feel now, I did not feel when I woke up two hours ago. I woke up, ashes for eyes, marble head. Now signs give me an all-clear. I’m here now—not in waiting for something else, not in service to tomorrow.