Free shows. I was going every week. Late 2013 - Early 2014. All these bands with no audience. Enter me and some of the best times of my life. Thanks everybody. I attribute the great times in part to the freezing cold weather. Alot of excitement.

Fred accidentally backed over Merlin, his deaf St. Bernard, with the old army truck. Fred and I skinned him and put his salted skin under the cabin. Five year old Hanna asks if Merlin likes it there now and under the aspens Hanna pays quiet attention as Kathy explains death.

Six thousand years ago in Europe, the people hunted aurochs at the edge of ancient forests. What they had were stories of helpful plants and fish. Then the farmers they'd heard about walked out of the sunrise, bringing powerful totems and tame animals, walking in numbers too great to resist.

An older boy invited Jon to see his Christmas gift. He went gladly with his new friend and they laced on boxing gloves. First thing, he hit Jon with a roundhouse right that should have knocked him down. Jon left then, stinging sad, and hasn't wondered since what people are like.

Her last view of the moon was through binoculars on a tripod in a stubble field. A halo blazed into light at the hill top as the moon sailed up through wind driven madrone boughs. I saw that stream of light rest upon her widening eyes. “It's glittering,” she said.

Survey complete, Dr Rosetta Liana climbs into the invisible time machine and punches in the return code with shaking hands. Her descendants - hairless, stupid, barely civilised - fill her with horror. A disaster to be averted.

"Hey Al," a tramp gestures frantically to his friend, "look! That weird-looking monkey just vanished!"

"Wow. Richie hit his first home run today. Wasn't that fantastic?" I sigh as I roll over in bed. Your cold pillow, though, offers no response.

Tears burn my eyes as an empty reality surfaces.

Four years since your death and I keep forgetting. Remembering.

"Goodnight, Richard," I softly sigh.

So it's raining. I'm a boy waiting for a cab. There's a girl who makes my heart dance, waiting next to me.

"You're beautiful," I say.

"You're wrong," she answers and rides off.

Later, alone in bed, I play it back. I'm not wrong. She's quiet fire to the dream.

20120309 01:14 Fri (50 words)

I’m waiting for a cab. It’s raining. He’s a stranger who makes my heart skip. He tells me I look like a nerd. I tell him he’s wrong. The cab comes and we don't exchange information. On the ride home I realize that he was right.

(from our comment to a charloft post about a weapon of choice being the book "The Art of Negotiating ( Read more... )