Man do I ever love typing ampersands. Seriously. Whenever I type one, it's like the whole universe shits solid gold joy right on my lap. Life is all sunshine and rainbows and Barbie Doll bumholes whenever I type an ampersand. I'm actually feeling a bit melancholy right now, so I'm gonna type an ampersand.
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HOLY SHIT AM I EVER HIGH ON LIFE RIGHT NOW!!!! SERIOUSLY, IT IS LIKE RONALD MCDONALD AND ORCA THE KILLER WHALE ARE BOTH TAKING ME ON A ROCKET TRIP TO PLUTO TO SEE SAMMY DAVIS JUNIOR STRANGLE MIMES WHILE WEARING LEONARD NIMOY'S SPOCK OUTFIT!!!!
Let...
the city was empty
winter empty, not
summer empty
snowstorm home-bound, not
bound for Myrtle Beach, or
flown to Florida or
wherever the hell
the neighbors went.
Christ, doesn't anyone stay
home anymore?
Sit on the deck in frayed nylon
beach chairs?
I can't even find them in
the stores anymore.
what happened?
where did everyone go?
it's the city...
it should
never
be
empty.
The hillsides have been finger-painted
with Larch trees turning yellow
like smears from a child's hand
that Mother Nature will bleach away within the month
I stare, thinking there must be a pattern to it.
Birds eating seeds from cones and dropping them in flight?
Early colonizers after a fire?
Unwilling to believe in beauty without structure and reason
Dusk arrives with its gift of quiet
As if hosting it here in this small moment of time required recompense.
A perfect moment of stillness
before I turn to go inside and life's motions begin again
The disco ball was turning. Who knew there were real discos anymore, with real disco balls?
This was my seventh time coming here in three weeks, all because of her. It was the same story every night: I walk in, I see her, I sit, I do nothing. Why do I do nothing? She paralyzes me. She paralyzes me but she doesn't see me. Or so I thought.
--
She's back. Again. Seven times. Seven nights of coming in, seeing me, sitting, and doing nothing. Why does she do nothing? It's clear she sees me. It's clear she wants to...
The disco ball was turning, emitting those little points of light just like in the aging movies. Soft music was playing, and I couldn't decide of this was romantic or embarrassing. It was the second time I had ever danced, yet I feigned confidence. She was Lilith, I was nervous. Later, I knew there'd be sex and horror. I felt the decay creeping towards us, but pretended it was only the hour. It's getting late, it's getting colder, but it's okay, because I'm here holding her. Big fake smile, a lot of makeup. An expensive looking tuxedo I'd rented at...
The disco ball was turning, turning, spraying shimmering light across the hall. Anne's body lay beneath it in a sparkling pool of blood that was slowly soaking in to the carpet.
Her father remained at the top of the stairs, gun in hand.
"Damn," said Spencer, standing in the doorway. "You guys really know how to party!"
Turning twice to see the darkness and the light, Keeley lost track of the zombie that had been running along behind her at surprising speed. Somehow he slipped in to the shadows as her light-blinded eyes took too long to adjust. No matter. Keep moving. She had to keep moving. She'd learned that early on. They were too slow to give chase. Except this one. Something about they way he moved led her to think that he was different. Faster, yes. But also more precise.
The bridge ahead of her looked empty. Still, she approached it warily, knowing that appearances...
One scoop chocolate, one scoop strawberry, it was amazing they hadn't seen each other for twenty five years but he could recall her favorite ice cream tastes. Wow she though,t he really did remember everything about them, maybe he was sincere, maybe he did love her, and never forgot about their deep, close, tender relationship.
"When I saw you again just now my heart really skipped a beat" he said softly, "I mean look at you, you have hardly changed at all, you are beautiful,l you look just the same, you look,well radiant" He was gushing with compliments, surely he...
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 argument over the preferred pronunciation of "Pax Romana" bloomed into a bloody fistfight, not that it was terrifically violent so much as the pugilists were notorious bleeders. The patch of snow on which they sparred began to resemble the flag of Japan as arms unfurled, elbows snapped back, and fists clenched so tight, thumbs overlapped knuckles.
Inside, my kung pow shrimp cooled under the air vent.