Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Meditation III

“I saw someone I went to school with today.” I was visiting my mother from the city when she said it. Of course, it isn't that much of a surprise to hear this from her, especially considering that she never left the town where she grew up. It's always how my mom opens these visits. I could finish the rest of two hours myself, any hope of it being different disappeared. Next she'll say how glad she is that she didn't turn out like them. Than, a great thirty minute talk about how unfortunate that person must be.
It's not that my mother is a recluse or antisocial. /she just thinks she's better than everyone else. Of course, inheriting the land the town is built on, as well as living off the rent from it, would have that effect on anyone. When everyone you see essentially works for you, even my noble nosed mother is going to start finding faults in other people.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Meditation II

When it gets too cold outside I count myself lucky that I have the luxury of a scarf. Nevermind that I wouldn't be able to buy a new one if I lost it, and I wouldn't even think of purchasing a similar one, in my current situation. But that isn't a problem I have to deal with now. Instead, when I want to go out, I'll take my brown jacket with its worn elbows, put on layers of thin socks, and step out the door, but not before carefully taking my scarf down from the hook it hangs from. I'll wrap it around my neck, and ready to set out, I'll leave my apartment.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Awaiting in a Parked Car

           So what is it like? When I'm enjoying my ride and watching the trees go by with their flowing greenery and the buildings spiking up past whatever sight I see. Then all at a chance we pull in somewhere, and someone dashes off for just a moment they say, faster than the changing scenery. But of course I stay in the car, and enjoy whatever else is on the other side, whether it be the black of the ground or my own reflection. I stare into it and ask myself why I don't go in, or what happens if you never return. The clock keeps going on and I wonder about the difference between a moment held by you and one watched by me, and the sun goes down and comes up and goes down again while I'm entrapped in my own eyes. But then I notice a worm coming out of my head, and see if crawling slowly over the ground pulling itself along.       

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Once a month

Is what I'll try...

Cassandra and the man


Her eyes crawled open just as a pine needle caught in her hair. Cassandra had been wakened by the sun, just as it passed between the trees in its rise from slumber. The warmth was caressing her face, but it wasn't enough to dissipate her heaviness, so sleep took over and left her on the forest floor alone, more needles blown from the trees to cover her.

Self Pimping

It ain't easy, but the worst part is us.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

A forgotten project.

I'm redoing it all, this is can just be tossed here. It's a long read. It was for a big project that I'm reworking right now, and it's a story I tried to write probably a dozen times. Unedited.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Feels good to post again.

Photographer


The island had one spot of sand. Waves picked up by wind out in the sea would either lap against it or crash on the jagged rocks. Their spray and salt would whip up into the air, covering the entire island, barely three hundred meters long and ten meters above. The concave shore and spit of land gave the island no discernible shape, and unless you were pushed against it, no ship would notice it. A lump lost among even little waves, barren of life. Only cracked rock with the occasional lost sea creature, trying to make its way back to the water along the white line paths.
My clothes and beard had long been coated in the salt. The t-shirt that protected me from the sun had faded from its red to a shallow pink, stiff with the white remains of the sea. My hair stuck out all over the place in a shapeless mass twisted with my beard. The rusted lawn chair creaked as I moved in my sleep, trying to get through the hottest part of the day. It beat down on me, turning my skin brown and making it peel.
Somewhere out on the water, the wind picked up and pushed a wave forwards, making it tower past the shallows and crash down on the sand, pushing it towards the island before taking it away. I woke up to the sound, and felt the water lapping my toes. My heart raced, but I didn't move. In the distance, there was a dot above the waves, slowly making its way towards me.