n

n
Creative Writing

k

k
Literature

o

o
Travel

I Remember.


I remember playing with pebbles beside a Scottish lake, a body being exhumed a week later.

I remember watching men carry the carcass of a cow from a truck filled with its departed friends. I wondered about the families they left behind, their children, their dreams.

I remember faking a headache to avoid having to wear a dress in a play about Picasso. Wake up it’s a beautiful morning.
0

Just Listen.


A guy parked his car directly outside of my window, his music blaring as loud as the speakers would permit. I felt the vibration of the rhythm against my desk. I was annoyed; I could still hear the music, even through my headphones.

I deliberated getting up to close my window but decided that he would soon drive away. 
0
Powered by Blogger.