In the event of my death,
sell my body to the gypsies;
they’ll know what to do.
Tag indie
A conversation
Shoes removed, parka hung-up, coffee on the table. The amenities were done.
“So how was the flight?” she asked.
“Good, once we started flying. No bumps. Good landing.”
“Yeah, good. I never thought you’d make it.”
“I was worried. No bullshit, Connie. I don’t like flying, and the thought of coming back made the back of my teeth ache.”
She laughed. Or barked, Connie’s version. “Yeah. It’s been a long time.” Continue reading “A conversation”
Waiting for Mr. Coffee
Morning. Before everything remembers what it is. This perfect solitude, when the soul is naked, the flesh is asleep, and the dreams start to wither. The sky, that perfect grey pastel, dingy but lovely. It is its own naked shadow. The undressed trees, waiting for rain, thirsty for refreshment. You can smell it, breathing beyond the hills, exhaling its wet breath. Continue reading “Waiting for Mr. Coffee”
Lace
Ordinary Handsome 