Publishing original thoughts, observations, and stories, that nobody is waiting for.
I'm sorry Bug
I was walking along the river when I heard what sounded like an animal in distress. It was a high-pitched rhythmic noise. I couldn’t place where it was coming from. The water was flat, the sidewalk empty, and not even the wind was enough to shake the branches. Then I heard it again. This time, looking down, I saw it. This is that story. _____ Bug: Ouch, fuck! Me: Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to step on you Bug. I didn’t even see you there. Bug: You broke my leg. Me: I’m sorry, I did...
I'm sorry Bug
I was walking along the river when I heard what sounded like an animal in distress. It was a high-pitched rhythmic noise. I couldn’t place where it was coming from. The water was flat, the sidewalk empty, and not even the wind was enough to shake the branches. Then I heard it again. This time, looking down, I saw it. This is that story. _____ Bug: Ouch, fuck! Me: Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to step on you Bug. I didn’t even see you there. Bug: You broke my leg. Me: I’m sorry, I did...
Three wide
The cast of a city rehearses early on the empty streets of a Sunday morning. A group of women walks three wide on an already narrow sidewalk. Their locked arms link three generations, the eldest in the middle. They have the same conversations they’ve had for decades, yet each week a new detail is recalled. Or, created. Ahead of them is a man, already short enough, bent over in pursuit of the fourth generation whose little legs power a balance bike. Behind them is a bearded man, arms crossed b...
Three wide
The cast of a city rehearses early on the empty streets of a Sunday morning. A group of women walks three wide on an already narrow sidewalk. Their locked arms link three generations, the eldest in the middle. They have the same conversations they’ve had for decades, yet each week a new detail is recalled. Or, created. Ahead of them is a man, already short enough, bent over in pursuit of the fourth generation whose little legs power a balance bike. Behind them is a bearded man, arms crossed b...
Gloaming
It’s not that popular of a word, gloaming. It isn’t even that useful. Words for sunset, dusk, and twilight already exist, why do we need another? It’s the type of word that you’d expect to be spoken on the campus of an English university, or found on the pages of a leather-bound notebook that's carried cafe to cafe, espresso to espresso, by a student whose intellect often leaves him lonely. I first heard it in the Mojave Desert. It was during one of those after-dinner games. The type tha...
Gloaming
It’s not that popular of a word, gloaming. It isn’t even that useful. Words for sunset, dusk, and twilight already exist, why do we need another? It’s the type of word that you’d expect to be spoken on the campus of an English university, or found on the pages of a leather-bound notebook that's carried cafe to cafe, espresso to espresso, by a student whose intellect often leaves him lonely. I first heard it in the Mojave Desert. It was during one of those after-dinner games. The type tha...
After 4 Years of Sobriety, I Want A Damn Drink
It’s Christmas Eve. I lead myself on a run through Boston. Along the Charles River, through Harvard Square, south down Mass Ave., and along the esplanade up until Charles Street. Near the Boston Garden, my fingertips begin to tingle. I remind myself to get better gloves and tuck into a cafe on Boylston Street for tea. It’s 11 am. The table of 4 to my right is finishing brunch. They’re at the stage where the server has their card, and its owner is sending itemized Venmo requests. The omelets a...
After 4 Years of Sobriety, I Want A Damn Drink
It’s Christmas Eve. I lead myself on a run through Boston. Along the Charles River, through Harvard Square, south down Mass Ave., and along the esplanade up until Charles Street. Near the Boston Garden, my fingertips begin to tingle. I remind myself to get better gloves and tuck into a cafe on Boylston Street for tea. It’s 11 am. The table of 4 to my right is finishing brunch. They’re at the stage where the server has their card, and its owner is sending itemized Venmo requests. The omelets a...
Sobriety Is My Superpower
The first time I drank alcohol I was 14 years old. It was a foamy room temperature Bud Light from a beer ball. I had scored the winning goal for our varsity hockey team in the championship game of a New Year’s tournament. My parents let me (read as trusted me) go to a New Year’s Eve party with the upperclassmen on my team. It was a sleepover. I was the only Freshman there. I slept in a bed with two Seniors. Females. One was a peer advisor. The next morning we went to an iHop, drowned pancakes...
Sobriety Is My Superpower
The first time I drank alcohol I was 14 years old. It was a foamy room temperature Bud Light from a beer ball. I had scored the winning goal for our varsity hockey team in the championship game of a New Year’s tournament. My parents let me (read as trusted me) go to a New Year’s Eve party with the upperclassmen on my team. It was a sleepover. I was the only Freshman there. I slept in a bed with two Seniors. Females. One was a peer advisor. The next morning we went to an iHop, drowned pancakes...
