So many letters forming so many words forming so many sentences forming so many stories I sit to write Nothing
Fog obstructs my view Is it rolling off the water Or from my meds Is it forming above the surface Or behind my eyes
She stands next to the no smoking sign Cigarette teasing a leap from her fingers She checks her watch He's not coming Her finger plays with a hole in the fishnet stockings her mother disapproves of She glances at the no loitering sign Five more minutes
I didn't cut the kitchen faucet off The thought pops in my head as soon as I sit I've never left the water running But now, I have? No, I haven't I know I cut it off Besides, I'd hear it running, right? I cut it off, like always I won't check I won't check [...]
Joseph was a snitch. At the age of 17, he tended his father’s flocks under his half brothers. But he was an informant for his father, reporting on the bad things his brothers were doing.