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Submitted to Contest #249
I was getting too old for this. I fought for my gray beard, and now that I have it, cough out my lungs in prayer for the color back. I fought a gangster for a pack of cigarettes behind the overflowing dumpster of this old mini-mart. He pulled his ski mask lower with each grunt, heave, and breath. He swung hard, though docile, and kept hooking his wrists around my neck. I wanted to smoke and I wanted to smoke tonight. I swung hard too, though fragile, and only pushed his nose like a button–squeezed like a clown’s–and popped the blush hidden u...
Submitted to Contest #248
So it was this time around three a.m. when the train rumble awoke me, and I saw the uncovered windows of second-story buildings through the creaks and cracks of my blinds. It was no secret what went along in that dingy backroom dwelling, though a sight to see: silhouetted figures so sleek and smooth against the silvery yellow of their own sorta dawn. But the men don't get lucky. And stopped getting lucky some years ago when having to pull out their wallets. It was no nuisance to me, except when dumb, bum, rum, dry outta cash.And tore through...
Submitted to Contest #247
that day was spent of more kicking of the rocks and scouring of the parking lots and we walked along dusty lonely freeways that led around and through orchards orange and yellow and vibrant and wet and just so wonderful i wanted to travel the world. she spoke of mexico, i spoke of france, and we both agreed on new york: man what would that be like? we never thought we would know, but the symbolic beauty of it, its cities and towers and lights and people and one-dollar food–the whole lot of it, how amazing! i feared our romanticizing of such ...
Submitted to Contest #197
I took off my shoes and rested them against the yellowed wall. The howling wind tried to keep the door handle away from me–and almost won–but I stretched out and caught it, swinging it closed in a sharp motion. It had just started to pour outside and I merely escaped while the rain was still a soft sprinkle. Oh, the stormy summer days. Kathy was waiting by the sink humming something and admiring the weather and the smells and such. “Let’s go eat,” she said as a strike of lighting–or maybe just the booming sound of thunder–rattled the rickety...
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