They crouched to peer beneath the stairs, the grime and dirt on the old hardwood floor unsettling beneath their feet.
"Come on, Benji. Come out." Jorgia slipped her hand into her pocket, grasping a dog treat. She dropped it at her feet in a futile attempt to lure their "lost" puppy out from under the staircase.
Ashley began to pace the hall, scrutinising the mysterious markings etched into the dirty, peeling walls.
"Hurry, Jorgia," she breathed, "We should get out of here soon."
Jorgia inhaled deeply and swiftly slid her small frame underneath the stairs. Engulfed in an atmosphere of...
She was the most delicate girl in town. I liked to think of her as something made out of matchsticks, and knobby joints. Her voice, it never seemed to mature, even as she stretched into a teenager, and curves set in, she would still skitter on her toes, and wring her hands, and never make eye contact.
The crush I developed on her was no not so unusual, I think the whole town was in love with her in their own way, male, female, child, animal. Girls like that aren't meant to last if you think about it. Those quiet...
I was just taking a walk when it happened. Listening to music, enjoying the fresh mountain air, nothing special. It started with two butterflies. Two pink butterflies.
I had never seen two flying together before. I'm not much of a nature person. I don't like the woods, I just like the solitude. But these two butterflies caught my attention. I followed them through the woods, watching them zig and zag out of each other's paths, always staying together. I know nothing about butterflies it just seemed so unusual.
When they finally fluttered out of sight, I looked around and realized...
Smile for the camera
He was of an age when he knew he didn't want snatches of reality - no, no, reality was already all around him, he'd had more than enough reality.
He wanted a false joy, the kind of happiness only captured in an instamatic, the image that would was all at once meaningless and meaningful.
In later life he'd write for hours on end about the false smiles that don't reach the eyes, about what those expressions really mean, what's really going on beneath the surface, the realities that can be extracted from the falsehoods.
But -...
It had been a long day the escape from the crowd into the woods had worn Jessica out completely she was tired. leaving him behind at the alter was the hardest thing she had ever done abut looking at the hand held in hers and his long gait as he traversed the trail easily she knew this was right. The man before her she had always loved she couldn't believe that he had come back for her though he said he would. Years before he had went away to travel the world but the moment he walked into the room...
The red gown was more of a crimson really. I wasn't sure why she had taken it just to sit down at a doorway just down the street. She had shown up with enough money for a new garment, I'd given it to her and she'd just sort of walked aimlessly down to the doorway and sat down.
It kind of made me hate her. I know you shouldn't hate little girls but I hated this bullshit. I mean, seriously, just leave. Don't make me sit there and wonder about what the fuck is going on. Like, I don't need...
Write as you please,
In six minutes,
Like a breeze.
I fear that,
Without a prompt,
The words won't flow,
Compet-
ently.
So I'll leave you this poem,
With it's oddities and misrhymes,
Mismatched verse and rhythms,
Lines that run out of time.
Words that make no sense,
Lines that are too dense,
And of course you must remember,
In this chilly month of September,
That poetry doesn't have to rhyme.
The sky blue sea swayed under the ultramarine sky. The sun is an amphibian, I thought. Then I wondered if any creatures lived in the sky and the water, never touching the land, and what would you call that?
A fisherman walked towards me on the boardwalk, handling a bagpipe. A boy followed with his fingers hooked into collapsed crab traps. A wet nylon rope dragged behind, leaving a wiry, drunken trail from where I never bothered to know.
The sign is new.
Something in my heart disappears, seeing that new, shiny, neon sign. Of all the things, I had hoped.... I raise a hand to my mouth to stifle the sob that is sure to emerge as it has so many times these past few expectant years. And I nearly walk forward and place my hand on the doorknob, nearly open the door and confront whoever is inside. Maybe it is Min-Jun. She was always nice to me. I wonder whether she has changed?
Of course she has. She must be.... what, twenty-nine now? Yes, twenty-nine. So old....
"I'm writing you a ticket," the cop said.
"That isn't fair," I complained. "I didn't do anything wrong."
"You're selling illegal oranges in a public place," the other cop admonished me. "That means a fine, and you're lucky we're not taking you down to the station."
"What's the matter with my oranges?" I cried despondently. Those oranges were all I had. I would be destitute without them, and what little income I could get from them. I had to convince them not to take that away from me. My family was counting on me; I couldn't let them down.
"Hmm,...