Hoarders and hoards of other wordly creatures fill the street corners, holding tightly, fingers clinging, knuckles white, to anything that makes them feel u n i q u e and whole. Walking around with plastic bags full of things that they don’t need. Blindly reaching for some meaning among all of this meaninglessness. I walkContinue reading “Hoarders”

Convenience Store

I kick up dirt on the rock shoulder of the road that I take to get to the convenience store by my apartment. Inside, two fat men are sitting at a table, sweating and spitting food at each other while they talk about a football game that they watched in the early nineties. I walkContinue reading “Convenience Store”

Waiting for Her

I’m standing outside, waiting for her to finish her drink. I told her I wanted a cigarette. She said she didn’t want to be rushed. I said, “don’t hurry.” But I’ve been out here for ten minutes now, and I’m not sure where she is. I smoke another cigarette. She’s still inside. Then I sayContinue reading “Waiting for Her”