No twinkle- so, planet, not star./ And bright, so either Venus/ or Jupiter. I’m guessing, Jupiter.

Trigger Warning.

The man had decided that this was going to be his last day. He’d find out one final thing and he’d be done. He had spent the last few years of his life unwinding things that had been wound and untying knots that had been tied.

The combined smells of ocean breeze, grilled cheese sandwiches, incense and sweat and burning herb that wafted over from Shakedown, along with windblown notes from tinny car speakers all rolled into a potent sensory cocktail he hadn’t tasted in far too l

The moon hung in the sky, round and pale, under cover of some wispy clouds.

it's the constant reminders of something that was never a constant remind her but i suppose there is no ticking clock on that which is wondrous and it was right right it's hard to come up with cleverly phrased universal truths and it's hard to make…

The universe extracts no retribution./ It annihilates without a thought/ of evil/good, sin/virtue.

What did it mean? What would a psychologist say? Oh, who cares. In my opinion, we ask why, what, when, where, and how too often.

Her shoes, left uninhibited below, seem sad but understanding, and she is so in love with something, which makes me so in love with the idea of her.

This guy struts and never walks, and while doing so he reads and sends text messages and emails from his smart phone and so never walks in a straight line.

The cat wound itself around Megan’s neck, its purring curling through Megan’s consciousness. She was the cat and then herself, both things at once.

where are you now?

I want to ask him why not now, right here on the living room floor when Rosie is out for the day. Instead, I suggest Sunday afternoon. I can make grilled cheese sandwiches and we'll eat them on the veranda. I'll take off my tennis skirt and unbutton my...

I’m trying to get this said, this piece of fact. If I am a person who can own something, then that something that I own is not me, not me as a person. I do not own my foot, my foot is my own. It’s like a whatsit, a semantic distinction I’m trying to

A woman with fallen breasts is attempting to hang her laundry on a string. Two tall men mount horses and ride them into the meadow. A squad of children wrap themselves around a playground.