The light through his body falls strangely, it says something of gauze, dirty glass, fog on a river.
materials needed: dead & unpeaceful hands, furry tape.
Summer’s over, our swimsuits are packed away, and Flash Fiction is re-opening tomorrow!
In school one day we read that blackholes probably exist all around us.
She seemed insane and benign, and I realized she was beautiful.
Our university keeps acquiring expensive stuff that it can’t accommodate.
There is a comforting order to the repetition.
Bring your best unicorn and narwhal costume to celebrate the big day!!
That we are in decline, if not bottomed-out, seems obvious in the macro.
The point is: you chose. You’re twenty-seven years old now, and you chose.