This feeling

They are all there stacked in a row like a neat queue of virgin dominoes all the clues forgotten lingerie charging cables without an adapter strands of hair all over my bed Is she going bald this winter? My mother looks at me with disapproval but her face is lit up again pissed that I… Continue reading This feeling

A writer died once

A writer died once he wrote the most beautiful prose and then walked straight into the path of an oncoming train they had to assemble him to cremate him properly they couldn't find all the parts though his right foot was dragged a good mile or two along with page 173 of his manuscript which… Continue reading A writer died once