12/05/2014

no. 7

Cen tripped on something hidden in the grass, fell hard, and landed on his palms and right knee. A bright pain flashed from knee to hip. He shut it behind a curtain of resolve, stood up, and continued running forward without examining what he tripped on. Just a rock or door frame. He had about five minutes before he would be engulfed in dark; the pink sun was already below the horizon, and low, oppressive clouds obscured the moon and stars. He wasn’t afraid of being in an unfamiliar area in the Zone after dark, but having no working flashlight, he knew it would be impossible to manage with zero visibility. There was no shelter in sight in this desolate field, and tonight would be cold and wet. The last place he’d seen was a sunken-in garage a mile behind him. If he ran fast enough, he might see the guiding lights of Lee to the south before long.

The deep redness in the clouds began to dissolve to black as the unseen sun continued to slip. Cen’s rapid breathing and foot falls in the grass were the only sounds in the surrounding stillness. Alone here, above his buried panic, he felt like a king.

Soon, he was running in a void. Unrelenting darkness was everywhere. He continued sprinting straight ahead, forcing down anxiety, waiting for a distant spectre of light to materialize. The thrill of running blind brought an invisible smile to his face. Each fast step was a risk, could be his last, before he would fall off an edge into another void. But eventually form came to the formless; the orange-purple crown of smoky Lee gave gave way to fine points of light on the southern horizon.

He ran on for some time, untiring, coming to the border of the shanty sprawl. The electric lights of the city were a mile or two away still. This far out, only a few fires shone amidst the decrepit shanties made of scrap. There were people here, but Cen needed shelter tonight. His late afternoon was wasted scavenging fruitlessly in the south-central Zone, and he was driven further south in the futile hope that the seemingly vacant land there would offer up unpicked crash sites, lonely estates, trucking weigh stations, anything. Having lost track of time and distance, he had realized grimly as the sky faded that he’d have to sprint for two miles just to spend the night in shithole Lee.

8/19/2014

spam poetry

Shaking his arms folded her own bathroom.
Been holding up with more.
Too much for she could walk away.
Does it makes me for several minutes.
Show you really want her shoulder. Other two years older than to work. Both hands into an old to talk. So much time matt heard nothing.
Does that man who was something else. Sorry skip had never get up looked.
Beth told her eyes wide open. Maybe even the boy and nothing.
Everyone else even with so like.
Hurry to forget the younger than himself.
Life is was making sure.
Living room window to leave her life. Nothing more careful with amy asked cassie.
Shannon said going and to stop. Saw matt called to tell anyone. Where did mom is our marriage. Instead of paper towel from cassie.
Onto his head against me what.
Unless you tomorrow morning matt. What are we both know.

6/19/2014

the man who lost is not

The girl fell.
The boy is falling.
The team in the yellow uniforms won.
The man who lost is sad.

Nick paused the program. The red light of dusk sliced the screen, orphaning the kanji for sad from the rest of the sentence and basking the image of the lost man in a violent, pained crimson. For an instant, Nick was on the field with him, confused and forlorn, sputtering in Japanese,doushitandesuka, in English, don't be sad, I reject this equation, the man who lost, don't be sad! The winning team in the yellow uniform glowered from the screen, cheap dated stock photography, and the field evaporated as Nick blinked in his seat at the desk, absent of awareness that he'd been away. He unpaused the program and waited for the next exercise.

1/22/2014

hello unknown

close your eyes. take a deep breath. imagine you are in a white space. here in this place there are no boundaries. there is no ground, no ceiling, no walls. there is no up or down. you are suspended in it. not floating, not stuck. there is no gravity. there is no distance, other than the distance from your eyes to your fingers and toes. you feel light and unfettered. your body is of little value in this white space, for you cannot sit or stand or walk or swim because there is no resistance or distance upon which your movement is based. you can wave your limbs and contort your body, but you are weightless and at ease. imagine yourself in this place without beginning or end.

now imagine you have a special power. when you swallow hard and deliberately in your throat, you can turn your body inside out and like a sock, engulfing it in the empty endless white. imagine that if you turn yourself inside out like this, you would vanish and only the white would remain. to make this happen, you would simply need to concentrate and swallow, and in doing so you would obliterate the "i" in "i am." you would not be, but everywhere would. prepare to dissolve. now, swallow.