Dialogue

Dialogue

I only eat breakfast on Mondays.

“Yea, I eat; I just prefer to eat more for sustenance, like breakfast foods. They’re heavy and take time to digest, so I’ll eat a big breakfast, say, on Monday mornings to get me through as much of my day before having to eat again.”

“God, I’m so fucking busy. Who has time to eat breakfast? Maybe, I’ll eat a good breakfast on maybe a Monday morning when I’m already up earlier cause I like to start my week off on the right foot.”

“Uh, no. Breakfast time is long gone by the time I get up. But Mondays are special. I’ll get up and meet my mom for breakfast cause she’s an early riser.”  Read more

‘Way Too High’

‘Way Too High’

Her friend woke later in the morning, but compared to rising before the run, late is relative. When her friend stirred at the sweet scent of the smoke wafting through the small room, she, of course, scolded her for using that precious bud in a one-hitter and immediately retrieved the bong off the kitchen counter and filled it with ice. The friend loaded the bong for the both of them to enjoy, and with the sun clearing the horizon, they pulled and puffed and giggled and coughed until the friend remembered the warning and stated, “This stuff, if/when you get too high, will trap you there.”  Read more

‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

There was no way in hell he would’ve or could’ve known that trying to get his head through the small opening at the top of the boat would not work out as well as he had planned. He never even knew why he wanted so badly to try to fit his head through the hole, except that it (the hole) looked roughly the size of his head, and “To measure one’s self,” he always said, “against the measurable is what truly matters in life.” Read more

‘Summer is here!’

‘Summer is here!’

She wailed and moaned and kicked and screamed as her mother attempted to get her out of bed. “The sun shines too bright and too early!” the girl exclaims. “Yes, because it’s summer,” her mother extols. “But I hate summer,” she cries. “No one hates summer,” her mother informs. “Well, then I’m no one,” the girl challenges. “Fine, be nobody and no one. What do I care?” the mother insists as she closes the door to the girl’s room. Read more

Feeble

Feeble

It was always my grandfather who made me feel feeble even though, in my mind, he was always the one who could not really take care of himself. Of course, there was always help. Grandma still lived, and my parents lived only a few houses down, but it was my grandfather who always made comments about my life and my stature and the choices I made. Read more

‘Why now?’

‘Why now?’

“Why not now?” she demands in the belligerent tone of a teenager. Her father never yells because he feels as though he never needs to. He also knows that after the incident, his daughter could never handle the stress of hearing him yell at her, even if the information is necessary, the tone matters more to him, he knows, than any information he could possibly convey. He takes a deep breath, “Darling. Not now does not mean no never.” Read more

If not death …

If not death …

She feels overexposed and has turned completely into pure light. Without anyone or anything to bounce off of, who will see her, or worse, how will she go on being, living, embodying herself? “No one wants to feel invisible,” therapist after therapist will explain. If that were the case, then she would not want to be invisible either. Read more