Red couch. Black polka dots. Red couch. Black polka dots. He figures if he keeps repeating it over and over he'll believe that's all it is. A red couch, with black polka dots connected by slight lines. She'd traced those lines countless times, she said it helped her think. Just a couch. It shouldn't make … Continue reading “Red Couch, Black Polka Dots. Just a Couch.”
Category: Prose
Natalie
My next place, she muses, will have hardwood floors, shining in their newness. It will have high ceilings and many, many windows, so that the sun can beam through. Perhaps she'll have a cat, and her cat will nap in the pools of sunshine pouring into the apartment, heating those hardwood floors. She walks over … Continue reading Natalie
Mask: Part 1
It's become a cliche You know the type Self-centered, blonde, tan, fit, Throw in an accent and what do you get? The "jock," "douche," "insert judgmental stereotype" and how quickly we are to hide behind labels. I'm noticing, though, how hard you're trying every sentence you say is punctuated by a furtive glance to see … Continue reading Mask: Part 1
Letting Go of the Wall
I had a crazy moment the other day. Well, it’s been a seemingly endless string of crazy moments, building up on one another to create this precarious tower that shook and rattled until it came crashing down – that’s what anxiety attacks feel like. You know exactly what’s happening, when it springs up on you. … Continue reading Letting Go of the Wall
Reaching Stillness
There are few things in life that are more soothing to me than coloring. Coloring. Markers, crayons, colored pencils, chalk. Anything. And so I have decided to write about it, for the sake of writing about it - and it'll all be in organized little lines, like my poems or prose pieces. In the turmoil … Continue reading Reaching Stillness
Amélie
She leans back and the light from outside the window flashes on her exposed teeth, framed by slightly parted lips. The vintage gramophone on her nightstand has been trumpeting the orchestral "Non, je ne regretted rein," over and over for the past hour. She doesn't tire of it, and moves the needle to play it … Continue reading Amélie
Echo
I chose the name "Echo" because that's how this all came about - a piece sent to a friend, a "What do you think of this?" and the response was a morsel of prose, the perfect echo. From there it became a search for increased creativity, and friends from all over the country have beautifully … Continue reading Echo
