Sunday, January 25, 2015

869. The way the grass bends

The grass rippled in geometric waves.
The grass rippled, buffeted by the rush of helicopter blades.
Here and there, more helicopters made more ripples.
The heroes and the cowards were all going to hang.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

868. Everybody's mother is already at church

They're all there, row after row.
None of them are going to whisper through the sermon, but they're casting sideways glances.
They don't all know what you did, yet.
But, they will before the coffee cools.

Friday, January 2, 2015

867. Clean sheets

In practice, we all have a conception story.
There is some moment where our parents connect in a biblical and biological equation whose sum is us.
As a parent, you want to be able to tell this story.
This, my mother says, is why I should clean my linens more frequently.