Tag: writing challenge

Garbage Day

He didn’t look up at the window but he knew I was there. Instead, he tugged at the ski mask where it had inched up his neck and kept his attention on sorting the toys left at the curb into two piles.

Avian

It wasn’t this sky but one like it, nearly cloudless in a different way, the water its own color of Lake Superior blue and calm in a masquerade that invites cowards to dream of long distance swimming, going all the way from here to… Continue Reading “Avian”

Cochlear Promise

We bore a hole in your head for the implant and then we attach a receiver that looks like you’re radioing Mars, then you’ll hear things you haven’t heard in years and it will drive you crazy and then you’ll be better.

Write It with a Red Pen

It never occurred to me to be anything. Growing up as a kid in a small town and then later as a kid in a working class suburb of Detroit, I never thought about it, what I wanted to be when I grew up.… Continue Reading “Write It with a Red Pen”

Q and A with a Sleepless Person

Q: Why didn’t you sleep last night? A: I don’t have a reason. It just occurred. Q: What was bothering you? A: Why does something have to be bothering me? Maybe I woke up just so I could think hard about who Mitt Romney’s… Continue Reading “Q and A with a Sleepless Person”

It’s Still Alright

“What’s that up there?” “That’s the moon, Janey. Remember the moon?” The moon. That’s the moon. What’s that up there?” “The moon, Janey. It’s the moon. Remember the moon when we were young?” “The moon. Moon. Moon.” “That’s right, Janey. The moon.”

A Pen or a Pencil?

I keep a catalog of 180’s in my office. I use my red file folders and label each file in pencil, preserving, therefore, the opportunity to do another 180 by erasing the label and creating a new one. I don’t think it’s a crime… Continue Reading “A Pen or a Pencil?”

Matched

By accident Unintentionally Stepping in with thin-soled shoes Pretending to be a braver person Than I was or had ever been Pretending to be Someone who adopts strangers From foreign countries Apologizing right away For speaking another language Neither of us understood

Watch the Slow

No, I always go slow down my driveway, then I look to make sure no cars are coming and then back my car into the street unless I see a little boy looking at me, his face framed by my rear window.

The Drive-By

They drove past twice, each time, slowing the car and looking up at my window. I stepped back so they wouldn’t see me looking back. How queer is it that I would see them at the exact moment they stopped in front of my… Continue Reading “The Drive-By”

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