You have made it exactly 43 minutes into your Wednesday morning before that bold wardrobe choice becomes a familiar lament.
White? Haven’t you learned?
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I am the artist and my body is my canvas
You are what you eat, so
I am a few bags of vegan gummy bears
Considered for too long
For the first decade of my life, it was something I rarely noticed. It was just a part of me, like my unruly hair, blue eyes and pigeon-toed gait. However, once I started middle school, the blemish could no longer be ignored.
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“If it fell in there, it's yours now,” she said matter of factly, staring past the necklace dangling from my fingers, saying as much with her eyes as her words.
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There are few things cuter, and sadder, than a mouse’s unaware butt inside a mouse trap that you’ve caught him in…
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Sitting here, facing a blinking cursor on a blank page, the nail of my ring finger robotically picks at the nail fold of my thumb like a metronome. After I get a bit of traction in the flesh, I switch to the sharper tool of my first finger, which is slightly serrated thanks to a sloppy bite a few hours back, or perhaps yesterday. I don't need to look at my hands to work an itch.
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They are south of Castle Rock—I mean, Colorado Springs. They should have stayed another
Night. They’re saying Castle Rock’s gotten six inches, which is actually—see, the Mountains I think were fine. Like—deep in the mountains. I do remember in my youth—