A coffee before bed.
For the soul that never came home.
No need to add sugar, because the dream will give the sweetness.
And when the morning comes, I'll make a coffee again. For the empty soul and empty days.
No need to add sugar, because im faithful to the dream.
Before the night comes, my life is always black and bitter.
Summer at my grandparents was an endless game of imagination, lying in the grass with army blankets tented across the clothesline, the sacred tie give over to Grandma's "shows" in the afternoon, my grandfather on the back porch with a baseball game on the radio and the smell of cigarette smoke in the air, grasshoppers caught in a jar with holes poked in the lid, and tart cherries from the tree out back. I had no sense of time passing and the memories still leave a taste of bittersweet on my tongue.
We'd sit across from each other for hours,...
I'm waiting in the emergency room. Fluorescent lights illuminate the sickly sterile floor, casting ghoulish reflections on the wall. The woman next to me coughs, and I shirk back.
"Sampson, Lila?" A plainly pleasant voice calls out. I blink before I get up.
The soles of my shoes stick to the floor, slick with residual cleaning fluid. My fingers have fallen asleep, pinpricks careen up through the tips.
"How is he doing," I ask, feeling disembodied. "Has it grown back?"
She clicked her camera once more, capturing the images and saving them for all time in the data banks of the portable media device. She absolutely loved this new era. Her collection had grown so expansively since wakening on this plane.
She clicked the device off and placed it, lovingly, in its designated bag and turned her attention to her coffee and bagel. The three men she had just captured milled about, confused. She suppressed a giggle at their momentary befuddlement. Humans always seemed to notice, no matter how many calming spells she wove over them. It was as if...
All Maggie wanted was to get home and curl up with Roger and a cup of tea. Seemingly just as frustrated as she was, the strangely cat-like Roger seemed to hiss from his carrier. Maggie just groaned.
Honestly, how much work could it possibly be to ensure the stuffed animals, flower seeds, scarves, and ceramic knick-knacks she'd purchased for the family didn't contain bombs of any kind?! Truly, Maggie just wondered if they were seeing how far they could push a frazzled looking woman with glasses and a dog carrier. How intimidating could she possibly look? "I never even got...
She'd have preferred the electric chair to spending another night at her mother-in-law's cottage.
the mother in law doted and fussed over her son, as if he was a newborn. She made all the meals and cleaned everything and once she caught her wiping the mustard from his chin.
"Oh, I'll make the hotdogs, dear," she said. "Andrew likes them a special way. Wouldn't want you to waste all that time and not have them turn out. Why don't you go lay on the sand and get some sun. You could use it, you seem frightfully pale."
Emily forced a...
In 1921, he flew from the Great Rift Valley. Ever since then, Luke had been a hero, from New York to San Francisco to everywhere in between, he was known for conquering the seemingly impossible laws of physics and flying from the valley. But he didn't reverie in his fame. Instead, he settled down in Castor, Arizona, keeping a simple life tending to sheep and cattle for the local farmers. Ince in a while, a television crew would show up and he would dissapear for a while; no one knew where he went. Except for me. I knew exactly where...
Crap. This wasn't going to be good.
The old man said 'Let's go deer hunting. Just like old times. Reconnect after all those years of you pissing away your life on the other side of the world.'
That was last night. We drank to it. He had some incredible Irish Whiskey. 12 year old. We killed a bottle. I hoped like hell that he'd forget the hunting plans.
He didn't.
Oh, Christ, he didn't.
My brain was tuning timpani drums in my skull. Like O Fortuna was ramping up. There was a fog over the field that may or may...
The maple leaves will change and fall with a certain grace – November will begin. The world outside my window will be shades of red and gold. Snow, a few days later, gracing the last few leaves on the branches. My mind will wander to that one autumn, the last time I ever saw that face. The muscular arms without tattoos; brown hair, blue eyes. It was my birthday. The autumn before that I spent the night at his downtown apartment. Same brown hair and blue eyes, tattoo-less arms. Genuine smile and honest words. This autumn will not be like...
He set the bowl before her. Watched her lick up the milk, drops sticking to the whiskers, few stains already down her soft black velvet catsuit.
Bob had never imagined getting into the cat scene until that fateful day outside the store where he'd gone to buy his usual six bars of chocolate, four multibags of potato chips and a crate of beer.
Outside he noticed an attractive young man with long fair hair holding two leads, each one had a beautiful girl at the end, dressed as cats.
Bob dropped his bags of shopping in surprise and never bothered...