Break From Reality. Daily.
Saturday, 3:00pm “Do you know a garage nearby?” I asked the two gas station attendants. Both stood behind the counter and were playing on their phones. The first, a brunet in her fifties, made eye contact with me and then retreated into the back of the store. The second, a teen in a tank…
“I told you we should’ve just taken the beltway. I told you.” The voice of the woman in the passenger seat next to Bryan was shrill and full of fear. The nasal intonation pierced his skull like a metal rod. “I knew we’d get mugged. I told you we’d get mugged. But you, big…
Nat nervously climbed the crumbling, concrete steps. He hoped this place would be different. He hoped they would let him stay. He paused at the church’s double doors. Using the windows as a mirror, he smoothed back his hair, twisted his mustache, and straightened his monocle. Satisfied with the reflection, he pushed the church…
Before the ring, I thought of her as a predator. She is there every day, all day, at the same corner. Her cargo pants are black, having long ago become saturated with filth. Mats of brown hair ooze from her black stocking cap. She appears to wear at least two heavy shirts: a black hoodie and…
It was quiet. Beside the breeze intermittently rattling through the leaves, there was nothing. Just the two men: one thinking and the other waiting. Carl shifted his weight, interrupting the solitude with the creaking wood of his chair. “I always loved it here,” he said as he took another sip from the red, plastic…
“What an asshole,” he ranted to himself as he pounded out an email on his laptop. He sat at the kitchen table, his laptop jammed between the cluttered remains of dinner. It was spaghetti night. Four small, plastic, bright-colored, kid’s plates filled with hardening, half-eaten noodles were scattered about. Each accompanied by a red…
I watched him from across the crowded bar. He was a small man with a thin, pointed nose. He wore a brown and blue plaid suit coat with patches on the elbows, a white dress shirt, blue pants, and ragged fedora. The close cut hair around his ears was greying, and his bow tie…
(photo by Stuart Heath via Creative Commons) “I knew it was a mistake the moment it was over. I’ll never understand what you saw in that man.” “Really, mom? I think everyone knew it was a mistake when it was over. I knew it was a mistake. James knew it was a mistake. Even James’…
Dear Drug Dealing Neighbor Five Houses Down, While you and I have had only passing encounters, I consider you a friendly acquaintance. On occasion I’ve smiled and tossed a nod your way. You’ve shown signs of recognition. Once you even stopped my kid’s ball from rolling into the street. It saddens me that we’ve never…
“I’m confused,” Tuck said, his mouth hanging open in astonishment. “You just let him walk out? Where did he go?” “How I’m supposed to know. He’s grown. He does what he likes,” David’s mother said without looking away from the flat screen TV hanging on the wall in front of her. Her hair was in…
(The image above is by Daniel X. O’Neil found via Creative Commons) My car was thick with laughter, exhaustion, and the smell of teenage boy. We’d just finished our summer workout. It was too early in the year for football practices to officially begin, but the team captains were holding “summer trainings”. None of the…
(The image above is by Glen Wright found via Creative Commons) “Hello. Revolution Church. This is Tuck. How can I help you?” “Hey. This isn’t the pastor. You’re the guy who works with the kids right? The guy who does stuff with schools and stuff?” “Sort of. I mean, I am a pastor. I do…
This is part two of a longer series. To read part one click here. Mencken pulled on his beard with his left hand and looked at the door of the house in front of him. A silver of light shown through it’s open seam. It wasn’t like him to shy back. He was not a…
The image above is by Union Square found via Creative Commons “It’s not ready,” Jackson said, mimicking the authority he heard his mother routinely use. It was instinctual for him to speak with a parental tone to his younger brother, being four years older. His mom hated it when she caught him doing it; but…
(the image above is by Phoenix Wolf-Ray via Creative Commons) “Why, Novis?” Mama demanded through tears. “Why do ya have to hurt me so bad?” She threw her arms in the air and returned to wailing uncontrollably. Novis stood quietly in the middle of the dining room. He knew better than to respond when she…
