Category: Prose
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Here’s to the Degenerates, the Wanderers, the Survivors
Here’s to the souls forced to live under cover of darkness, filled with desires they cannot express, overflowing with needs daylight cannot soothe. Here’s to the 3-piece suitors, lunch hours on their knees, heeling to Madame X, travelling hidden and unspoken roads within themselves. Here’s to lives lived in shadows, in defiance of no life lived at all. Here’s to the good, obedient ones, who shred rules to pieces, who launch fireballs of abandon when no one is looking. Here’s to the embers that singe their ground, reminders of who they are, when unjudged and free. Here’s to the addicts,…
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Meet Sandra
Her name was Sandra and there is really only a single way to describe her movement through life. If I had to name it; I mean if I had to put a finger to it, match it to my frame of reference and then commit, it would be to say that she was aggressively indisposed. Yes, that she courted illness as a confidant; an ally doubling as a weapon, aimed toward anyone attempting familiarity with her. You see, she was beautiful. Not beautiful in the sense of ethereal captured in marble, or the boldness of old Hollywood glamour. She was soul…
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Found: David Simmonds, Tuesday 6:35am
He awoke that morning and believed it to be like any other. Placing his feet flat on the floor beside his bed, he put down the phone he had already surveyed for fresh news. Nowhere in his conscious mind was he aware how life changing today would be. Nowhere in his body could he feel the earth ready to fall from under him, like so many dreams he once carried as a child. And yet, that is how it goes. This, so often, is how the moment arrives. One awakens on a day that presents like any other, only to…