There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. His hair is dark. He just stands there watching. I call out to him asking his name, but he doesn't reply. He just stares.
A can't take my eyes off of him. I stand there too, staring at him. Our deep eyes meet and a chill flashes down my spine. As I gaze into the windows to his soul, my breathing quickens as does my heart beat. Here we are, two different entities separated only by the distance of a metre or so. I can't describe the deep dread I feel...
Goodnight...read the glowing sign above my bedroom door.
I shoveled myself further under the covers and sat with my flashlight, curled in my tiny igloo, my fortress of solitude, catching up on the secret stash of comics that I had hidden in the back of my closet.
I'd read sometimes until the flashlight flickered, in need of more juice from the cheap batteries I'd buy at the store with leftover lunch money. I'd fall asleep squinting my eyes so tight that I couldn't make out shapes on a page, and I'd wake up early to wash the sweaty inkstains from...
White bedsheets flapping in the heavy breeze. Orange shrapnel from withered branches impotently scrape the stiffening linens.
I never saw an owl in my backyard, nor a black cat elbowed and shrieking on my fence.
But I can smell the wet detritus of autumn by the cellar windows and drip, drip, dripping from the gutter.
The doorbell. A banging on the screen door. Shaving cream in the middle of the street. These things, too.
After years of experience, Todd knew that the best way to eat a pocket watch was in the reclining position. It aided with digestion. This was already his fifth watch of the afternoon, but his hunger was nearly insatiable. His favorite parts were the delicate gear mechanisms; they cracked between his teeth like the fine bones in canned salmon.
After he finished his watch, Todd hopped up and hiked back to the trail. He hid among the underbrush and waited for the next group of passers-by. It was just sheer luck that he was in the forest this weekend at...
"Straighten your spine," whispered Jenny as she placed her hand on my back.
I loved this move, but could never do it right, even though I'd be practicing yoga on and off for about three years now. Something about it asked me to be too flexible, to vulnerable.
But I worked on flattening my back, all the same, and pulling my left shoulder back to deepen the stretch.
"Now, switch to the other side," said Jenny, in her steady voice, standing back at the front of the class.
I reached to the right this time and could hear the cracks...
"I can do this," Jimmy thought as he ran across the field. It was early Sunday morning; the light was pale and there was still dew on the grass. At 5 A.M., Mom had woken up in a cold sweat groaning and swiping at imaginary demons in her bedroom.
"Go get Aunt Jane," Dad had said. Jimmy had never seen his hands shake or heard his voice crack.
After the first mile, a stitch built in Jimmy's side. He was breathing heavy. Another mile ahead was Aunt Jane's tiny cabin. She lived alone and had a garden of herbs. When...
These hands. These hands have felt and touched so much
in their years of attachment to the wrist. Now growing old
with creases deepening and becoming weathered by time.
And these eyes. The optic scope of the world that this body
has had the power to see through and deeply into the
wonderful mysteries that surround us- but some may forget,
as if there are greater things to think about than where do colors
come from. And these ears, hearing their way through city streets
by night and taken to different heights by day as the world
erupts with a...
She didn't look at him.
Instead, she stared out of the window, quivering as though she would cry at any second.
"Bev?" Steven called out tentatively.
She shook her head, still not looking at him. All Steven wanted was for her to look at him. Her gorgeous green stare always made him breathless. She always made him happy.
But now? He screwed up.
"Beverly, c'mon. Say something."
She stared out of her window as though he weren't even there. He walked closer and reached out to touch her shoulder. "Beverly-"
Jerking back violently, she twisted his direction and snarled, "Don't....
The gate closed behind them. Like a thunderous blast of insecurity they were shunned, abolished, removed from the society that their father so desperately tried to control. Sarah turned, taking hold of her younger sisters hand and began walking, but she wouldn't move.
"Damnit, c'mon Michelle! They've thrown us out, our dumbass father screwed up, and now we're the ones paying for it!"
"But daddy was trying so hard, he only wanted to help-"
Sarah slapped Michelle across the face, tears breaking fourth along side the ear shattering sound of flesh smashing into flesh.
"Dad messed up, he died, and...
I cannot be old as were, but I'll be as old...
No springs, no machination, no burn, can retreat the circle
but the circle will come round
--not old as were
Along the shore they did not remember
Walking until their flesh and their ligaments
Wasted
No mercy for the parched
And she stood staring from behind pa(in)
And he paced
And he destroyed
And he ripped--because
This is not the girl I wanted
This is not the girl I knew
This is not the girl I ordered
Custom made behind a pa(in) of glass
Darling or darling oh darling...