Collars and Sleeves
One day, my hair will turn grey. My skin will wrinkle crisp. The earth, I will leave. Friends will say, “What a life he made,” as I lie in a starched collar, with perfect starched sleeves. A young man, bound by both hands to an unknown date and time when he will never breathe. Press on, you prodigal son, with an ever messy collar and unbuttoned sleeves. At peace alone,...
I like these guys.
Story: The Decisions and Desertions of Jason...
I told you I was playing catch up. Part two, of who knows how many. The Decisions And Desertions of Jason Hornsbrough. He sat upon the top level of the parking garage two blocks from his office. He was forced to walk this distance every morning for the past 5 years as an operations assistant manager for a company that produces and sells coffee pots, accessories, and all that comes with it....
Story: The Bar.
Part One, of who knows how many. The Bar. It’s not so much that it’s a dark and empty place, as much as there’s enough space to sit alone, away from the people who never cared to hear your problems to start. I take a drink from my overpriced beer and try to savor each bit, like a miracle potion to cause amnesia. Another drink, another cigarette, another wasted night. And...
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