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There are chopsticks in my chocolate milk
And a bed on the floor in the living room. There are three pillows, crunched together, a few folds of golden wrapped condoms, and a cat curled up on a fuzzy, white, blanket that M’s grandmother g...
To the hat on the table:
I wear you a lot. I never thought of myself as a hat-wearer, but it seems that I’ve become one. It’s the burning sun that’s been all the trouble. I can’t really remember where I bought you, hat… ...
Dear pears,
You don’t feel like ripe pears, but Flower says she had one of you at lunch and you were definitely ready to be eaten. I took two apples from the box, as well, even though I don’t particularly ca...
Tea in the foggy morning.
I should probably take a stroll in the cemetery to start my day off with some light endorphins. Now that M has taken on some of the house work, I can focus on more important matters. Only, I hav...
Dear Coffee,
Your acid stench makes my stomach churn. Perhaps I should have some wine. Rose’ it is, then… Perfect! It’s fresh and crisp and sweet. I enjoy it, though it might not be the best choice considerin...
Book Description
It seems I can only comfortably write in the first person if I’m either writing to someone, or writing as someone else. So, I’m going to write to coffee. Why Coffee? Because it’s what’s sitting beside me right now.
