Archives for category: writing

He spent days working on his house. I didn’t know what he was doing until I found him one day, hammering solar panels onto his roof. His entire roof was covered in solar panels. He was focused and full of pride, so I didn’t bother the progress being made. Instead, I invited the girls in. They came bolting through my house, dashing down the halls. Wild, like children. When they noticed my cat, they asked me her name. I couldn’t remember until I was reminded it changes depending on who’s in the room.


She was a powerful force and a seductress and she invited me into her room, where she had drilled a hole so deep into the ceiling. A hammock hung from there. I asked her how she would repair the hole. She told me it couldn’t be fixed, but frank and without emotion, like she didn’t care about the destruction she caused.

Then, she seduced me.

Jealous was the word that appeared on the screen.

We were dancing in a circle. My silky aqua-green dress splayed out and made waves around me. We moved so gracefully that we almost took flight. And we were only waiting for the party to begin. While people gathered we observed each other’s tattoos. One girl had a tattooed heart on the back of her neck. Only I saw the pink scar she was covering up underneath. Not to worry that there were train tracks running directly through her kitchen. She didn’t seem too bothered by this inconvenience. In fact, she was quite cheerful at the party.

I was in his backyard looking at his things. On the fence was a hanging object – a framed hub cap in the shape of a spiral. I was amidst his mess. The table was covered with dirty dishes, left-over food, and beer cans. There was a party there the night before and I was not invited. I only got the remains. I was not supposed to be there rummaging through the wreckage.

I wanted to kiss him at every moment. It wasn’t until we got to the tree that I had the courage. We kissed lightly, then he pulled away.

“You barely kissed me.” He said.

“Your lips are dry.” I replied.

I was standing in line to buy shoes. Two pairs. Black sandals and blue high-tops. I also bought a container of liquid to make the shoes, but the cashier said that was not possible. Shoes were not made of liquid. Then, she took out a large pair of scissors and cut off all my hair. It looked terrible. I was standing there, hopeless and ugly (and without any shoes).

We were stuck in an elevator. It was someone’s fault. No one came to get us out. In the car I have an over-sized map. We are discussing the route. The fastest way to get from point A to point B. We are not lost, but we do not know the way, either.

I asked the waiter what was better, Swordfish or the steak? I settled on the Sunfish. While waiting for the food, the cook called me on his cell phone. I’m not sure what he wanted to ask me, but the waiter was furious that he made that call. When the food came, a ruffled fish, eyeballs and all, was placed on a large platter before me. My mother had the same dish.

And, then, the parade started. Or, the practice for the parade, rather. I stood on the sidewalk and watched the band members twist and lift their knees in preparation for their march.

His shell was purple with streaks of pink. His soft body was a translucent blue. He scurried around to find a place of solace, so he could come out of his shell. I noticed him trying to come out. I tried to encourage him to emerge. With no luck.

We traveled by train. The destination was desolate. Down on the dock only a couple people watched an orchestra play. There were so few people and it was hazy. All the while, I was searching for something.

I heard his kind voice. I found him in his muted-grey sweatshirt. He turned to me. Picked me up and spun me around. I tilted my head back and laughed in his arms.