side's profile

We sit at the table we used to sit at many years ago. We smoke a cigarette together like we used to smoke many years ago. I had not seen him in many years. We have not spoken in many years. But we are together today. I look at his face it has changed somewhat. He was almost hairless then but now his stubble begins to show. He speaks using different words and our slang does not match. A hear a little accent he must have picked up elsewhere. He inhales his cigarette a little differently now. He...

The funeral had been somber and barren. I stared through the kitchen window and into the backyard. There, a bluebird was perched on a branch of a naked, leafless tree. It moved his head in varying angles until the eye on one side of its head met mine. I stood perfectly still and stared into its eye. Our eyes became locked. And as I stared, everything in my peripheral vision merged with the gray sky in a blurry fashion. My eyes were beginning to play tricks on me as they became fatigued with t...

Some mornings, He wakes up with a cigarette between his lips. Like this morning It's already lit and smoking. Lit before he awoke And smoking before his first breath. It slowly burns from the bottom. Of fire, of dust, of smoke, It takes from his whole. And the ash trickles down on their own will gathering on his naked burned chest. Some nights, He sleeps with a bottle between his lips. Like tonight It's already trickling drunk Empty as it trickles And drunk before his first sip. Why is it tha...

She gathered a handful of her hair and they became parted to her left. "Is that really me?" she thought. "My hair is so dull." she said to herself looking into the mirror. He pressed down his cheeks and rubbed his sharp chin. "Is that really me?" he thought "My cheeks are so big." he said to himself. looking at his pictures. They both were worried and frightened about the answers to their questions.

A spider web reveals itself to tell hidden stories through patterns. White sunlight shines past a forgotten window into dark corners long lost from his mind. The web remained through many years, it, carefully woven by a spider of black and red. The old web, camouflaged in the upper corner by older chests, older photographs, older letters also long lost from his mind. The web began small and modest, a comment in passing, a fib, a boast. But the window blew chilling suspicious air and shook the...