What am I suppose to be doing? Right, one of those two overdue essays. But the postal people are wearing shorts ( Read more... )

I am the scene.

This is not what you thought it would be, but you can't complain. You never thought of what it might be, but you don't think about what it might become either. So I guess just pull the straps of your boots over your shoulders and keep walking with a saunter ( Read more... )

I no longer feel like I need to burn down a church just to see what happens. I don't feel like jumping off a bridge into the water below to see how far a 60 foot pin dive will take me under. I don't feel like I need to break out of the physical ( Read more... )

I knew it was a mandola as the notes that moaned out were deep and rolling. Yet it was made of bark and had 8 strings of thin twine but only 2 that pressed on up the neck. There were no frets and I played it with intuition. I strummed it with an acorn and nobody scoffed. A small clean shaven man in dark cataract sunglasses joined in with a ukulele ( Read more... )

Mortimer took a drag from his cigarette and wished that he could breathe nicotine. He finished the last sip of his rye and it tasted weak from the ice cube melting in it. He looked at it with anger then threw the glass into the darkened corner of the room. Things couldn't get much worst he thought ( Read more... )

I stood leaning against the window of a McDonalds waiting for a street car at Dundas and Bathurst. I had arrived to three people straining there eyes to the busy street's horizon. They were all waiting for the same thing, they were all trying to think about nothing. I didn't bother straining my poor vision, instead I watched the faces of the people ( Read more... )

The coffee poured into Mortimer's cup like cough syrup. There was no steam. He looked up at the waitress hoping to gain some sort of explanation with his disapproving stare but she would not meet his gaze. Mortimer could tell that while she worked she held her apathy closer to her than the coupons for Hamburger Helper in her breast pocket ( Read more... )

I'm turning 21 soon ( Read more... )

I tape a cigarette to the end of a recorder I bought for a dollar and watch as the off kilter notes that choke out of it float away in puffs of smoke ( Read more... )