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Scruff
oncetwicetheman
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A businessman, slightly disheveled, sits beside a client in a house with an overgrown lawn. They come to an agreement and the businessman goes to open his briefcase. The latch refuses to unlock. The businessman says "damn", "it does this to me all the time". Looking over at the(more)
In a magazine which crackles as you flip through the pages is an ad for a brand of cigarettes which today we mock for being the cheap fare of women in faux fur.

A pack of them sits atop a table in still life beside a delicate vas(more)
Cedar woodchips on a playground. Calluses on fingers. Dirt under fingernails. Domes, slides and platforms on springs.

An elementary school. Breezeblock walls painted a very light grey with a yellow stripe cutting the wall into child size.

Yellow tubing, textured plastics, blue skies speckled with clouds.(more)
John and Beth are victim and killer.

Beth is the killer and John is the victim.

Beth is a venus flytrap and John the fly.
(more)
He smelled like a penny because he was rolled in blood and the red dirt of the hill.

The shin of his right leg stung broken plod by crooked plod across the rock into the ocean.
(more)
The wind is cold. She thinks to herself I love the smell of the gas.

The stained black notebook is resting on the seat. Bethany takes it from the car and begins to read it.
(more)
If I am unable to write then how can I say anything about being unable to write?

It's heartbreaking.

This is all heartbreaking. (more)
A skeletal hand is perched on red velvet. Fixed in position by surgical pins. The velvet is draped over a box large enough to fit a labrador.  

John is stuck staring at it. He sits on seats edge, chest caved in beneath an arched back. He is tucking(more)
If you walk deep enough into the halls, you will come to a place where concepts exist. Like Plato's world of forms.

But the Gnostic Halls and Plato's Form World are odd cousins of one another.

Forms in Plato's reckoning are perfect. Not so in the Gnosti(more)
Practitioners of the lords phenomenon are called lords by some, masters by others. Some call them puppeteers or bosses.

To some they are known as mirrors and bridges.
(more)
We should write together on here.

I have seen a few writers maintain narratives lets create a group narrative.

It could be a choose your own path narrative. One writer starts a narrative and two or more respondents write divergent bits.

The tags section could b(more)
John is passing insignificant beneath the monstrous weight and scale of the overpass.

His arms beyond the short sleeves feel the cool breeze of the sorbet pink dusk.
(more)
Headsman, injection, passing out, going deeper, dead. Is retribution justice?

Harm done, undone? Harm remains, repented for?

Repentance, Retribution, Justice. Nothing without forgiveness.

Forgiveness is execution of self. Letting go the lottery ticket that entitles the winner the right to hate.(more)
Scalloped silver surrounding the oblong turquoise pendant.  John finding it in her jewelry box.
Beth coming in to see him.

Beth's sad eyes, left eye twitching slightly, quick, quick and under control.

John awkwardly replacing the object into it's place.
John's palms sweating, nervous(more)
Black fly, you are the resident of my wall and my window. Uncomfortably I accommodate your being in my place.
We, black fly, you and I, are tenants together.

I will name you. (more)