But I am of the eternal diaspora. One of many wandering children dwelling in tents in this vast wilderness. Home is a memory that I can’t remember. Rust and decay have eaten away at its core and corrupted its foundations.
“Oh and I bought canned whipped cream,” my mother-in-law said. “So if you want some on your pie it’s in the kitchen.” Several happy chirps rang out from the inhabitants of the table. I kept my peace. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth and that nasty spray can whipped cream is more sugar... Continue Reading →
I see you laying there flat on your back, Your limbs splayed out against a metal slab. Unclothed, exposed, cold skin and muscles slack, Hands poke and pull and nip and tuck and grab. Your innards are removed and in their place, Some cruel heart replaces them with fluff. With brush in hand they paint your pallid face,... Continue Reading →