There are some things that hurt, some things that hit the bottom of the wastebasket with a cruel little cringe. Some trinkets that must sorrowfully slide with the explanation, "I know it's just a stupid box, but it was my stupid box." Then some trinkets that over time have become nothing more than tossed to the side with a facile, "I would like ( Read more... )

My mom rejects her phone and says, "I don't want to disturb Ben when he's driving a ninety-thousand dollar car ( Read more... )

I glance over the marina and step up starboard. My hands are at work but I have to think, is this work? We're just part of the maintenance crew, but we're all walking around barefoot over the water singing Johnny Cash tunes. And as I swing around port, the Mango Man himself asks if it is indeed June fourteenth. I take another nautical breath and ( Read more... )

I'm throwing out ideas thinking, how she'd love me, if I only cared enough about money to have any.

I look at your pictures, but I have no idea who you are. And how lucky is a person like me to have ever had a person like you (whatever that kind is) throw their body unto mine and sob until the color of our eyes practically stained one another's shirts ( Read more... )

Straight up Mike W.

It doesn't bother me when Mr.Bryant leans on the overhead and hopes with a furrow of the brows that we got something out of his class, or when my first impulse is to go to my locker but I reach for a lock that isn't there. But when you say this could be the last time I see you and take a high-five (and two for the road), letting our hands hang ( Read more... )

Singing up to the big bank clock, it was 8:47 when it was official: I did perceive the only separation between you and me, and every stranger in between, was the way we part our hair.
And oh please believe it, Mr.Connelly, I will be the pig. I could sob that up toward 8:48, for her, just put the apple in my mouth.

I laugh into your shoulderblades as you point out failing grades on the spreadsheet, whispering what would be mean, if you were mean. If you really did say that you're not staying in honors, I'll miss this, I'll miss you ( Read more... )

Assignment check, notes, another assignment. I'm heading my paper laughing, I'll do this again, but I'd rather drive wooden stakes into my eyes and twist...
"Today is a mournful day: The last day of real class."
And I realize, I don't have to.
And little Cinna is one last heading of the paper away.
And the wooden stakes aren't at all necessary.