Category: Flashes

-The boy liked to hide. It was part of his disposition, he didn’t like crowds or having to share, or germs. He could never get away from all these things. So, he took a box, an ordinary box, and carved holes into it. He started to collect things. At first it was just insects, as he had been taught these were the bearers of most germs. The box quickly filled with roaches, and beetles, and a couple of flies. Then he started adding dogs and cats. He hated the fact that they licked themselves and then tried to lick him. […]

-The brilliant blue of the sky flared like when fireworks exploding. The night falling, darkened everything including the firework trails. It’s been years. I’m trying to leave them behind me. Packed up everything I need into a small carry on suit case and lit a match to the past. The closets filled of ghosts, I emptied and gave away the rags they cling to. They belong to Goodwill now. The house stands as a shell, a thousand miles away from where I am now and farther with each moment. I close my eyes and take deep breaths. Let the road […]

-They dance in the cover of night. The star strewn sky glistening above them, sprinkling the lighter shades of dark and bestowing variation to their senses like an orchestral composition made to fill each moment and each silence. The light bounces about them and the world is transformed a thousand times as it becomes diffused. They dance without question. They dance without reason, but also because every possiblity exists in the steps they take together as well as those they awkwardly take in the moments when rhythm is lost. Were they to stop and question the purpose of their movement, […]

-They sit across the table from each other. The white linen cloth stretching between them. Their plates have been emptied. Small talk has filled the space. They’ve reached a type of impasse. They’ve discussed the weather, their day, the silly thing that coworker does, the annoying habit of which the boss is unrelenting. The dinner plates have become round ceramic canvases. Their forks and spoons have spread the remaining oil and sauce about, creating different abstractions. Silence is a response. They know this. She continues the clinking of the silverware to fill the space. She smiles. “You know?” she says. […]

-It was a cafe near La Seine. It was a dream. He woke in the middle of the night on many nights from this same dream. He would sit in the cold stillness. He could only remember that it was La Seine, a cafe, a dream, and he was waiting. In the dream, he was always waiting. Not waiting in the way that Vladimir and Estragon were waiting, but the way you do when you know the appointment will change your life irrevocably. He had never been to a French restaurant, let alone France. The dream didn’t care. It introduced […]

-He steps out and sinks instantly. He didn’t believe it would, or that he could anyhow. So he retreats, taking two steps back. He stands there and looks at the blue sky, inhaling the crisp scent of nature. He tightens his fist. The metallic shape digs into his skin and he can feel the sharp edges. He looks out and is transfixed by the dancing shifting light on the surface. It is a surface. If light can dance on it, he can walk on it, he thinks. A bird cries and shatters his thoughts, as it swoops down between the […]

– He woke up groggy. There was silence. The room was still. Beneath him, sheets like those he’d been accustomed to for far too many years. These felt softer. He sat up. The windows had been moved. They no longer faced east-west. The morning light was dimmed, as a consequence. The room had four walls, but all other similarities to the room he fell asleep in ended there. He pushed himself off of the mattress and let his foot make its way over the edge and onto the floor. Making contact he froze. There was a comfort in the soft […]

-I woke this morning to a cascade of pronouns, personal and impersonal, falling against the window. It doesn’t usually rain this time of year, and least of all in “I’s” “me’s” “she’s” “her’s” and “one’s” but upon rousing to the syllabic tapping at my window and looking out into the darkened sky and its heavy vowels, I could not doubt the downpour. It is usually more morose and heavier, cascading the amorphous morphemes which affect the soul. But it was light today. Perhaps a sign of the divine imparting more than emotion. Identity also. In the puddles beneath the window, […]

– As he brings the rock down on the rabbit’s head, he thinks about the story of Isaac and Abraham. His father had told him the story. It had to do with giving back to God the gifts he gave us, in sacrifice. In the story, God doesn’t take it back, instead he provides the sacrifice and is pleased with the heart of Abraham. He holds the bloodied stone above the fractured skull, and watches the body spasm as the muscles suffocate. He wonders what kind of heart he would have to have to please God. He wonders if his […]

– She walks. Away from her house, she places each step. It is her steps which become most real. She focuses on each step. The imprint on the earth each leaves and the way once left behind, the breeze erodes the perfect outline. She has moved on by the time her footprints are no longer what she left, however. Her attention is on the next step. There is no count. There is no distance. There is nothing real, except each new step. She walks. Through a dozen lifetimes, she takes steps. She never leaves the moment. Each new step. She […]