1.5.9
Beep beep—the car door latch, check the mirrors, spin the engine up, thump into reverse, check for objects in the mirror, bend the car out, thump thump into drive.
Beep beep—the car door latch, check the mirrors, spin the engine up, thump into reverse, check for objects in the mirror, bend the car out, thump thump into drive.
The front door knob was heavy, lead machinery and taut springs tangled up in a hidden knot behind the smooth, loyal swipe of its latch.
I swoon at the cooing of a new civilization. But my eyes must deceive me now—another phantasm appearing, another cinematic fantasy with a soundtrack to a future past, haunting the mind inside my ears. These birds on the earth, we called them doves—explain it again: is it morning or mourning? I still hear them stuck
Sweeps | Civilization Read More »
I’m home—the message cut the slowly collapsing white noise pressing in, heavy ocean water burying her buoyed head.
And she pictured herself there like a sad animal eating itself, slouched over the bowl of slurried ice cream in a silk nightie, hair oily, and the strange angle of her chin from the side.
Evelyn sunk down the stairs, reluctantly, turning back at the bottom deep in thought, but there was nothing so she stared through the door into the kitchen.