SRHSL

When I look back on my life, maybe the problem largely speaks to personal revelation as opposed to lacking time for deep introspection. The room falls silent. Everyone’s eyes fix themselves upon me. What have I said? Cort and Bailee whisper something to each other. “I’m sorry. I must’ve zoned out for a moment,” I attempt in a way that I can only presume sounds inadequate. “Oh, darling girl,” the old man —Mr. or Sr. Regrettable High-Seat Lazlo— seated at the head of the enormous conference table feigns, unsympathetic.

The Longest Day

They hadn’t realized it until now, but they had been inadvertently wearing the same t-shirts whenever they saw each other. After the third or fourth visit, he noticed that in all their photos together, the two of them looked as though they had traveled from California, through Colorado, to Texas all in one day. The thought of this perceived time-travel excited them greatly, and so, they planned and now made sure that they each always brought their respective shirts to each destination. 

Whenever Is Now

For an entire lifetime, no one will care about what you think; no one will care about how you feel; no one will care about where you go; no one will care about who you are, until, of course, for some, someone does. Some find comfort in the solitude. Others find themselves crushed by the loneliness. And others, still, find that someone ends up caring, caring a lot, caring so much, in fact, that life without you defines the impossible.

Living at a Crossroads

The night still dark, the low, growling, dryer-in-the-basement rumble of a semi-truck warming or staying warm out on the street below, permeates through all of the windows within the seven-story apartment structure above, through the vaulted studio space, upward into the laddered loft where the vibration bounces from wall-to-wall in the tiny cube. It’s six o’clock in the dawn of morning. 

Tuna Littles

Perched in a screaming death grip on top of the backseats, between the two head protectors, a luscious, blue-eyed, seal-point Siamese expresses his terror-filled discomfort. “Tuna,” the woman seated in the front passenger seat of the blue Volkswagen Beetle gently coos.

Writing Date VII

“The Storm Before The Calm”

A flash of light describes the event not, he says. Everyone always seems to think that a bright light or a projected slideshow of your life passes before you in the final minutes or seconds or nanoseconds of your life.

Abeshu

“And you know what they say about people who have red hair,” the small girl child cajoles. Failing at his attempt to ignore the child, the man bites, “What do they say?” All smiles with bright, excited eyes, the small girl child grabs at two ends of her own red hair, pulls them out to each side, makes her face as big as she can as per the directions given to her in the past by the man in front of whom she now stands and delivers,

The Boring Company

Bored, the two looked at each other and let out a familiar sigh of frustration, but the two soon realized their error. Presumably, they had assumed that the event had been created for the amusement of adults, and it had been. 

London

Filled from corner to corner, wall to wall, small, single-digit-aged, Asian children sit in two rows of six. Side by side, the children’s desks work tirelessly to remain in a straight line across the width of the room. Front to back, the desks work endlessly to remain in two distinct rows. A yellow-haired, plump, Caucasian woman stands at the front of the class. With her back turned, the woman writes on the glass, dry-erase-type board. 

Writing Date VI

 

There were stipulations, outlined guidelines, specific instructions, adept lists that he had made, the way that he had always made them, and still nothing had been completed or undertaken in exactly the way that he had been ensured with deep, sincere promises. Few, he knew, would or even could accomplish such an endeavor, so the fact of the matter remains, he had not been surprised by the overwhelming failure of the group.