Interjection
Cold as a dry cube of ice sticking to my tongue, your eyes freeze me in suspended animation, when all I wanted was a pretty lie, not the naked truth.
Vertical
Aaron stared out the window of the helicopter at Cathedral Rock and wondered if he and the pilot would reach Sedona Airport before the storm. He knew the risk, but he didn’t care. His father Jim was deteriorating from Dementia and Parkinson’s in an assisted living home. He would argue with Fidel Castro at church
Public Space
I sit on a park bench under a blue spruce, surrounded by a perimeter of transients speared by the occasional jogger. Someone plays a guitar and sings the lost song. We’ve all eaten, most of them at a nearby soup kitchen, I in the office I left for a moment on a windy afternoon to
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