Sounds Like Static
On the Plateau of the Everyday you operate, far from the edge in a circular Trench carved out by your mindless beating feet — a legacy of drudgery. But, oh, the ease in keeping feet one in front of the other, no bother for the ledge — the Edge of Normalcy — and the Unknown... Continue Reading →
The Edge of Confinement
Suspended in motion. Even the ocean roils, rages in despair But rarely leaves its borders, Just following orders. And I am the ocean Grand notions of lasting legacy, But like the sea, I roar then settle, A tempest in a kettle. The cycle unrelenting, Perspective dementing From the thrashing, the crashing headlong Into sea walls... Continue Reading →
To New Beginnings
“Is this seat taken?” he asked, with trepidation. The woman across the table looked up from her book with a mixed expression of surprise and apprehension. The ambient sound of the café was a low, steady chorus of clanking spoons and steam nozzles and Saturday morning banter - all tell-tale signs of a coffee shop... Continue Reading →
Perdition on the Susquehanna
Just outside Owego, New York where the interstate turns south, and the terrain of the Southern Tier pushes the horizon ever higher, an offshoot of the Susquehanna cuts into a shallow valley between oak-speckled hills. Through remote country does the creek wind, ever waning as it meanders northward, unnoticed by the infrequent passerby, save the... Continue Reading →
The Realm: Chapter 3 Part 1
Dwynn Murphy stepped into a candle-lit room and was instantly flooded with a mixture of emotions so acute in their dissimilarities that she nearly collapsed. The full brunt of her mission's purpose was finally weighing on her heart. From the corner of her eye she noticed the man, hands... Continue Reading →
Living Up: Friends
I could get him down here with me. For that's what all pitiful people do, from the drunk, to the addict, to the miserably lonely. They tug and pull and drag those around them down into the pit where they reside. They beg and plead and lie and pretend until their prey is caught, until there is another in their dark room to share in the torture that is the bitter, empty, hollow captivity that they have erected about themselves. Escape is not attainable, but commiseration is.
Living Up: Friends
Sean continued to navigate the truck through winding suburban streets, thickly settled but thickly wooded. Each home sat close to the street, bordered by juniper shrubs and uneven sidewalks. Behind them, sprawling yards remained brown-yellow from a long winter, while towering black pines appeared brilliantly green next to the bear slender arms of oaks, maples, and walnuts.
The Realm: Chapter 2 Part 2
"Yes, the great Elizabeth!" Dwynn said mockingly as she stood up. She then began striding about her sister with the composure and pomp of an empress, embracing an invisible scepter and waving to an imaginary crowd. "The more I see of the world," she decreed in a lofty tone, "the more I am dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters." She stepped backwards to the chair, faltering in her steps until she dramatically flopped into the seat where she had begun her melodramatic performance. "It is unaccountable!" she said breathing heavily with a forearm across her brow. "In every view...unaccountable!"
PA 332
Similarly did a group of teens seek shelter beneath the awning of a convenience store in the next town. They blew grey cigarette smoke out into the air while cursing the rain and their parents and life itself in godforsaken obscurity. Surely, no two towns were exactly alike, but mile after mile, Corey found one local custom remarkably consistent: staring. Gawking, squinting, leering, with tilted heads and mouths agape, the natives postured at the sight of the foreign wagon rolling through their neighborhood. It was as though a silent alarm had been raised, and like wild things did they clamber to windows and draw back their hoods and cease their conversations to address the intruder in their territory.
B David Larson 