Tweetie
My eye is cold and my blood is hot.
Entries 17
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... in Minor Epiphanies
One day you will wish for a storm to wash everything away. But the storm has already come and gone. You are still where you’ve always been, tethered to the earth, exactly where you began and wi...
... in Idle Thoughts
You imagine a story composed of nothing but dreams, one after the other, weaving together and overlapping, without substance or plot. The characters drift together and drift apart, again and aga...
... in Idle Thoughts
Walking away from the night, into the day. Getting warmer with every step toward the sun. You can’t lose your way on this golden path. Nothing can follow you out of the darkness.
... in Minor Epiphanies
Debris everywhere. Most of it flammable. But then the wet underlayer, the sudden slippage as they try to run across it, the sudden fall.
... in Short Stories
Momentum runs out. The pen slows and stops. It stops for a week. When it starts moving again, it is sullen and dull, it has lost its edge. There’s nothing now in the mind of the pen. If it were a...
... in Idle Thoughts
Stones with sharp edges. You could chip weapons with them, obsidian blades finer than steel. It would take a long time, and a steady hand. You’d probably never get it right.
... in Minor Epiphanies
Take hold of the fruit of knowledge. It’s the big peach with the tough skin that keeps the insects out. Until the peach falls. And then the rotting begins, and the swarm arrives.
... in Minor Epiphanies
The earth tilts away from you, lets you stagger and fall. But the incline can be managed. The steepest peak has steps carved into it. The spin can also be managed, has handholds within reach i...
... in Short Stories
Today is warmer than it’s been in a while. The air softens and the clouds gather. But it doesn’t rain. Instead, the clouds form shapes according to their mood. They look at each other with sad fa...
... in Idle Thoughts
You read magazines while you wait. The New Yorker highlights how out of touch you are with popular culture and Vanity Fair how ignorant you are of culture-culture. Or maybe the order there shou...
... in Minor Epiphanies
An illusory world. Everyone in it, fabricated. Each entity creates itself, breathes life into itself, generates its own narrative. It is up to each to interpret that world, however in error. ...
... in Short Stories
You had a job. It was long ago, and you hardly remember the details of the work. There were piles of paper to go through. The paper appeared of its own volition, containing information that wr...
... in Minor Epiphanies
Something is flying toward you, and something is flying away. Too quickly to see.
... in Idle Thoughts
You ponder summer. Where does it go in the winter. Is it sitting in a shack somewhere in the tropics, hiding out. Or does it just crawl under the fallen leaves in the yard and try to get some ...
... in Short Stories
An orphan rebels against her abandonment. She goes from door to door, opening them all, demanding explanation. She tells everyone her name. She shows everyone her face. She demands recogniti...
... in Minor Epiphanies
A black curtain slamming down. The black curtain of space. Or a black wall made of stone that you can’t see until you run into it.
... in Idle Thoughts
A lost bag. The last bag. A bag full of thoughts. You can’t crimp the top of the bag down tightly enough, your thoughts will always leak out before you get home.
