Saturday, August 22, 2015

909. Corn

Mary-Margaret kicked at the dirt.
She was alone in an empty field.
"Maybe Thursday," she wrote in her little notebook.
That's when people would eat the corn.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

908. The old church

Their grandfathers' grandfathers cut its stone from the Quarry by hand, everyone said.
It was a part of their heritage, they all agreed.
How could those idiots at City Hall approve its demolition, they all demanded to know.
But, when the hat was passed around, they all turned out their pockets and cried poor.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

907. Just checking in

Dear Simon, I'm writing to you from "the other side" - lol.
All in all, it's pretty good, but maybe a bit too crowded.
Thumbs up to free tennis, but thumbs down to no longer being among the living ;).
Well, talk soon - probably.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

906. Moths

I went for a walk the other evening - in the twilight.
A moth flew right in my eye and scared the piss out of me.
But, I'm ok.
We're all ok.