My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Nondescript people, Living in anonymous houses, Easily ignored or forgotten. No names, only numbers, Dehumanizing discontent, Demoralizing dreams, Dismissing disquiet. Playing God with others’ lives, A tournament with flesh and blood pawns. Rules constantly changing At the Game Master’s whim. Egos push the margins of mercy, All for bragging rights, For a chit in their … Continue reading Rack and ruin
She squatted low, her butt just above the packed dirt. Leaning forward on her toes, she dropped her left hand between her splayed legs for balance. Her right hand, covered in a thick, leather glove, was palm out just below her chin. Her opponent stood perpendicular to her in a fighting stance - knees bent, … Continue reading Dust devil
It’s not like it was back in the day. Now Instagram pix and Vimeo videos are uploaded instantaneously for all the world to see. No filter, no blurred lines, just all her glory in all its glory. Dad isn't pacing alone down those long, brightly lit, sterile hallways, absence and detached from that singular moment … Continue reading Hashtag birds and bees
Her Noisy Typer app was working perfectly. Despite the silicone skin lying protectively over her laptop keyboard, the nostalgic clacking of letters materializing across her screen was comforting. Too bad the words were complete twaddle. How she longed for the days when she could rip out the offending paper from the carriage, wadding it into … Continue reading Typing test
A trip to the Big Easy was my consolation prize. An extravagant time-out to escape all my recent drama in a totally decadent way. I pawned my wedding ring to pay for the trip with no plans to ever redeem the ticket. Stumbling drunk through the shop’s green, shutter doors, I wasn’t sure what to … Continue reading Consolation prize
I know every inch of this road. I know when to accelerate over the hill where the vineyard starts to get that roller coaster high. Rubber leaving asphalt, airborne if only for a breath. My stomach rising to my throat, laughing. I know which curves I can take at full speed, gearing down without hitting … Continue reading Whine of the engine
Thin spiral notebook 