Thursday, November 27, 2014

862. We're the face of the revolution, darling

The fire blazed hot, hot, hot against the face of the girl with the pigtails.
She could feel the heat of her burning home right down to her insides.
When she smoothed the pleats of her dress, bits of ash scattered to the wind.
Her legs swung absently, clanging against the robot's metal shoulder as they lumbered toward the city.

Monday, November 24, 2014

861. We're all buckled up, you and me

The girl beside me at the coffee shop was arty - if I'm using that right.
She carried a backpack like the one I'd owned in sixth grade.
It was green with several buckles.
I tried to strike up a conversation about the bag, but it didn't work.

Monday, November 3, 2014

860. The difference between saying it and meaning it

All hail the noble white lie.
These artful fallacies, these tasteful frauds are keepers of the peace.
They are the single civilizing force that keep all of us in friendly relations.
Because at the end of the day, there's nothing so dangerous as an honest man - like this one.