Last night, while asleep, I had a dream I was a gravedigger and my life was in danger.  I awoke to the beautiful sun streaming through the windows and I knew I was very late for work.  Luckily it wasn't too big of a problem.  But there's something about oversleeping.  I never feel I get the same benefit as I do when I sleep-in on a weekend.  Also, ( Read more... )

I love the way the wind informs of a coming storm.  Beware it whispers through oak tree leaves and across abandoned backyards.  The sky is covered with ominous gray clouds and the wind is rushing everything along.  Suddenly you think about the windows left down in your car, the valuable items left out on the back lawn, and the windows left open in ( Read more... )

The last journal I started writing began "I feel dirty and scarred" and somehow brought itself up as a saved draft when I came to type.  I did that day.  Random acts of criminality have a way of getting under your skin.  You can be the best possible person; work the hardest in your job, love your family the most, show kindness to your fellow man, ( Read more... )

A few weeks ago it came to me that perhaps the best way to get over some of my issues would be to write about them.  And not in the glib, cursorial manner of blogs and memos.  So I started a novel.  I'm not sure yet if it's good, bad, awesome, terrible... But it's been incredibly refreshing.

Two men on matching motorcycles rode up the steep hill.  The first turned effortlessly, but his friend following him tipped over in the middle of the suicide lane.  I caught a glimpse of his salt-and-pepper hair as his shiny-new motorcyle almost crushed his leg ( Read more... )

I resent daylight saving time.  I feel like it's some ploy by the government to force me to utilize as much daylight as humanly possible.  As if it's inhuman to prefer things viewed in the soft light of moonlight rather than the garrish light of the sun.

And suddenly, in an effort to "conserve" "lost" daylight, the switching point moved two or three ( Read more... )

They looked like a snowglobe, dancing tightly together in perfect circles.  We all stood around watching them in their married newness, pricetags still on their rings and cheeks aching from smiling too much ( Read more... )

I clung desperately to the rock wall, my fingers and toe's tense with the effort of climbing up a vertical surface when my sweaty fingers slipped.  I reached behind my back to the bag of chalk around my waist in an effort to gain a better grip, when I looked towards the entrance of the gym.  It was as if clouds parted and a soundtrack began to play ( Read more... )

There is a boy in my class made out of duct tape.  He comes to class with sandals made of duct tape, a Vietnamese-style hat made of duct tape, and a backpack made of duct tape.

He walks into class late, holding looseleaf piecs of paper, tripping in front of the entire class.  The teacher gives him a frustrated look and keeps talking as if we're not ( Read more... )

They dated for four years before taking the plunge.  Despite his hard exterior, it was always clear that he really loved her.  They had  a son who has her eyes and his smile.  They were happy.

And now, there is no they.

The door slamming up the street still reverberates in my ears.  I see the tracks his car made on the freshly fallen snow as he drove ( Read more... )