Looks Dry To Me

The drought doesn’t seem so depressing once it’s continued for so long. In fact it is oddly compelling. Losing hope can be addictive.

The Horizon Is A Lowered Curtain

Do you know what that is on the other side? Even the most intense visualizations manifested in your subconscious could not depict such beauty. I could tell you what I’ve seen, but I don’t think you could comprehend the slightest hint of it. Keep your fantasies of twilight skies swirling above mountain ranges untouched by humankind if it gives you something tangible in which to believe.

Pathways To Unknown Worms

I am a derelict. I am of the fugitive kind.

To Get Yourself To Sleep

You try to show him what plays on the screen you’re always watching. That self-inflicted soreness in your neck comes from staring and sitting too close. Now at night you watch distant radio towers and pretend the blinking lights are really the eyes of vampire bats. What a childish game to play.

Unexpected Growth Spurt

Each morning and evening it passes through his head, but those thoughts are fleeting and he rarely pays them any mind. Now it’s gotten so far out of hand, his family and friends are afraid to ask how he is feeling. They’re content to let it slide. Why? I don’t know.

The Art of Confusion

There are people I recall, and there are people I do not. For the mind that only contains a finite amount of space, every choice is incidental.

Without Spectacles

He chooses to sit in the rain, where his clothes become soaked, where his glasses are useless, where his immune system does not offer protection. He watches puddles form and listens for the sound of the bustling creek that runs behind the property. He’ll never hear it.

Beleaguered

Time is of the essence, you see. Questions of trust have dictated our course, and now we find ourselves staring down a deadline. As hard as we’ve tried, neither of us can remember what lead us to this juncture. It started, it continued, and it will end. There is little reference to minutiae in our words. Our words have grown tired. Even through these binoculars, the future is still too small to see. Is this time machine working?

Sign Language

Even parking meters have an opinion about the lack of living in my life.

Pupils Dial Eight

She is always scared, and she is always racing. Nothing dares to prey on her. Motion trails follow as she runs her marathon. Without competitors, there is no finish line. Without conviction she has only a forced smile to hide behind.