Semi-Daily Scribbles

Carving out a corner to post random crap.

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Category: Moments

  • Most Likely

    OKREADY   It was the fool moon. Yeah, blame it on the lunge of Libra all tangled up in my "you're terribly unhinged because you've long neglected your needs" business.   butreallyiblameitonthefactyousaidCRAZYPEOPLE whilewewereinthemiddleofaperfectlypleasantconvo   I'm too old to let anything twist my knickers, or use a word like trigger unless I'm talking about an equine…

  • Courtly Love

    Gary's less stressed these days. The lights he used to see when he closed his eyes now follow him around like fireflies. Those firefly-like lights create a shimmery rooster tail in Gary's wake as he makes his way through the Food Court. Even the tinkling ring of cat bells, once confined solely to Gary's auris…

  • Courting Disaster

    Another bitch looking at me. This one's brown. GO THE FUCK BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM. Where did she get $$$ for that computer? Stole it — bought it with $$$ dealing drugs — sucking dick. That welfare cunt is looking at me again. Maybe she likes my coat. What the fuck??? She's looking at…

  • A Court Appointment

    Chéri, listen up. You've always done a good job with that. Scoot a little closer. That's it. Well, I had the dream again. Zoë's head has much to say. I don't need to tell you how much. You know … you know? The world! The monsters! You. You with your straight spine and head harder…

  • Holding Court

    Leesa frequented the Food Court every day. The mission at hand was to record the stories of the people she saw, like the middle aged lady who talked to an empty chair. Leesa also observed the teenage boy who wore an Eisernes Kreuz on his tattered camo jacket, his head bent, surrounded by multiple black…

  • long cold ride

  • I Can’t Explain

    And like o.k.: There's this particular writer whose work I've read and enjoyed and whom I find interesting and irritating all in one big, messy mouthful of come-one-come-all (talkin' bout chyoo JD). Yeah so, brutha man goes on about fat folks in his stories and he himself is pretty thin (cute, though – I'm shallow,…

  • A Chance of Scattered Acts

    May 11th, 1996 was the day we met. Me in purple velvet bell bottoms bought at The Potter's House and a little, lacy cami (a doily, really) to cover the upper bits. You in lederhosen and a grey t-shirt with the name Stuckey's stamped in red letters across the chest. A downpour, a shallow stoop,…

  • It Took Three Rings

    The Filchers don't care. You are just in their way. We're not real to them. Things, though. Things breathe, and feel, and transmit messages to us when we're fast asleep. Take that house on the corner, for example. It whispers a reedy greeting each time you pass by. "Hallooo Yoo." Things know us by how…

  • Sometimes Opportunity Forgets to Knock

    doors are madedoors are foundperception dwellsunderground voices once hearda four-letter word nine months' worthof onenasty hang is a memory best kepton hold (cue the music)