when i discovered the art of writing, it was as if i discovered gold on the other end of the rainbow. i was fourteen and had just gotten my first manuel typewriter. little did i know that this yellow original wordpress would first produce several short horror stories before moving on to more dramatic stories about broken hearts, drugs, suicide—things i noticed going on around me. Continue reading
The redhead plays pool at the table adjacent to us. She leans on the table, stick aiming, intense concentration. I’m envious of those sleeve tattoos—sexy murals frolicking around her pale shoulders and arms. Here’s my chance. We walk over, very slowly, Steve McQueen cool. She glances over. I gaze at her. She doesn’t turn away.
“Dude, she’s eyeing you,” Dwayne informs me loudly; he thinks he’s whispering, as he clutches my shoulder.
“Who?” asks Jenny. Continue reading
bound to suffer, bound to fail
it’s inevitable, something to look forward to
she preaches in her black spandex pants
inexperienced, yet confident in life’s answers Continue reading