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Chicken Weather 2Walking up then down
my three-cul-de-sac street,
one in the morning.
I'll never live down
those palm trees.
The Kid and IActivity is mild during the Tuesday noon-hour inside the shopping center, and the kid is sleeping while I put words together in a small notepad. We're sitting in a sort of resting station, an identical one of many throughout the mall. The chair I occupy has puffy leather cushions, and is more or less uncomfortable, but he seems content in his stroller. The kid, my nephew, four months, has been out for a while, saving energy for whatever's coming his way. We're in the same boat, I guess, getting by day to day.
When I'm not caught up in conjuring sentences in black graphite lines, I watch people. A young woman ages drastically as she nears; this happens with several more women. A number of new mothers push strollers across the smooth tile. They wanted a baby, got one, and now they're stuck carting it around the mall so they don't get stir crazy. They don't want to make eye contact with a baby sitter with a pierced eyebrow.
The kid and I are waiting for things to happen. In the mean time,
My Two CentsI felt like a cigarette,
so I had one.
Get off my back.
That's what I was
going to write.
I entered the tea shop,
giving the universe a chance
to change my mood.
It was a joke,
I expected nothing.
Two not-so-lonely smokes,
and a touching message
that left me with nothing to say...
Two pennies on the ground.
I leave them there
to brighten someone else's
rainy, frustrated day.
Sometimes the universe gives you
a hand when you're down,
when you truly don't expect it.
That's my two cents.
Accents and Cardboard"Have a seat," I said, motioning to my love-seat sofa. She walked across my deep brown hardwood floor with her new, white sneakers to sit on the far end of the couch. She had on a pair of blue jeans which couldn't be much older than her shoes, and a grey brand-name jacket. I sat down as well, leaving about a foot of space between myself and this girl whose outfit expressed a not-so-effortless display of casual American style.
She sat with her hands clasped in her lap, and looked timidly around the room. She was pretty, blonde I hadn't been with many blondes. She was foreign as well, but I had already forgotten from which country, though she had told me earlier that night. I did remember, however, that she had only been in the States for three months, and though she didn't mention it specifically, I could tell she had arrived with a poor grasp of the local language. Whatever her native tongue, I'm sure the most I would possibly be able to speak would be the translated equivalent
Never ClosedAnd there we were - It was late, we were fed, and we were adventurers. The ground was wet as we walked out of the diner, but the clouds had given up their activity of raining for the night, and had taken to mindlessly drifting. We were doing the same.
I'm not sure what time it was, but it was "tomorrow". It had been "yesterday" when we had walked into the diner, and "today" was lost somewhere amongst a few cups of coffee and a plate of appetizers. We weren't too hungry, but we had gotten food because 24-hour eateries are made for people who have no place to be after hours, and that defined us rather well on most nights. Such was the story of tonight, yesterday, tomorrow.
"One of the things I learned during my semester in college," I told Steven, my less educated comrade, "is that coffee in an okay drink." His lack of university learning had left him drinking root-beer. We had already gotten sodas earlier at a convenience store - another all-night establishment. Though we had to open ou
Snow flakesHe woke up, half a face buried into his pillow. He turned to face the ceiling, and began to review the night's visions before they faded away from his memory. Disappointed, he sneered to himself, and let his body remain limp for a few more minutes. He was an old man, he liked to think, though he was only forty. He took a lot of naps.
"If I can't find you in my dreams, then where?" he asked. He had been waiting for that answer for a long time. Knowing the response would never come, he climbed out of bed and walked towards the kitchen. He realized how cold it was beyond he blankets, and scrambled for a pair of shabby slippers and a once-white robe. He clutched his arms to his body as he scuttled to the stove to make a cup of tea.
It's too cold here, he thought to himself. That's only because it's December, another part of his mind snapped. The first voice responded, it's always too cold here. The voices in his head had always debated, but only in recent years had their arguments become s
Merry Christmas, tangerinesA man wanted tangerines. His neighbor had a tangerine tree, but he didn't want to ask - he felt it would be imposing. So he walked to the store, realizing half-way that he should have driven.
"No tangerines," said the clerk. "Oranges." An orange seemed wholly unappealing, so he decided to buy an apple. He took a bite as he walked home, and found it mealy. He threw it away because he hadn't even wanted it in the first place. When he got home, he went to bed early because he just wanted the day to be over with.
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