Happy Hour Wolf

Leaning in heavily, ham-fisting his lowball like a vice, he drops his wilted butt on the floor between us. Smoke oozing from between his pointy teeth, he licks his juicy bourbon mustache and smiles hungrily, "How about a bite to eat?" and immediately, I'm sure he means me.

slip stitch

She kissed the lip of every teacup in the cupboard, tasting each daybreak born on mismatched posies. Touched every spoon with damp fingertips, leaving only the impression of loss. Whispered into the pockets of overcoats, a story about cold days and castoffs. Asked the spider behind the bathroom door to remember to pay the paperboy. Finally, she touched the corner of the tattered Afghan throw. The one with the intricate pattern of squares holding everything together. Then she gently pulled a single thread and began the process of unraveling every stitch.

Submittable

Hearing, "no" even in the gentlest way, still stings a bit. Hearing no twice is a sure nuff burn. Why do I keep putting myself though this? Someone asked me once why it was so important to be published. I thought I knew. Now, I have no idea. Someone, remind me please!

What Comes After, In Single Frames

1975

Hunter Biden

If you dont follow politics (I can't imagine how you could miss this election cycle but....) move on because I have something to say about this whole Father/Son situation. Here's the thing, if Joe Biden hadn't pardoned Hunter Biden, the incoming administration would have prosecuted him well beyond his crimes. He would have been made an example of. I feel like I might be preaching to the choir but if, by chance, a Trump supporter finds their way onto this blog this is for you: I know you have a lot of feels about what happened. Fuck your feelings! Yup, fuck. your. feelings!

the void

this is me, screaming into the void. wouldn't i be surprised if someone screamed back? thats a hint. someone, scream back!