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Weekly Contest #64
I would sit by the window and listen to bare branches scratch the glass- like they so desperately wanted in, while I so desperately wanted out. Sometimes I’d send a dish crashing to the ground, just to remind myself that I was still real, in some sense of the word. It was comforting to know that I could still influence things that were truly real. The days melded together seamlessly. I knew that I missed someone, but could no longer remember their face. I spoke to the paintings. I tried to figure out how to die a second time. Until th...
Weekly Contest #63
I couldn’t smell whiskey on his breath when I hugged him. Only apple cider. In the absence of disappointment- that same gray bitterness I’d felt as a child when I saw him passed out on the couch at noon, infusing it with the scent of booze and cigarettes- I had no idea what to feel. “Getting ready for Halloween early? Or is the purple here to stay?” He reached out a meaty hand to ruffle my hair. The interaction felt forced, like I was in a play with an amateur actor who’d been cast as a father for the first time. “I dyed it two...
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