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She took to reading obscure science fiction novels
by candlelight, drinking wine under the covers, and pretending to smoke. Her repertoire  consisted of learning strange accents and using them to enlighten ironic circumstances. Such circumstances included but were not limited to: sneaking up on the cat, under(more)
    A dive bar called the Spruce stood in a dirt lot off the main artery through the rural town I lived in.  Although the place was only a a few minutes from my house, I didn't visit often.  But on one unfulfilling night I didn't feel like going home just yet,(more)
Where has the city gone?
The streets once had the color
Of life and love, of culture
Now a vulgar vernacular

Disjointed words like a schizophrenic (more)
I put a Top Pot Doughnut on my grandmother's grave, just to spruce it up. Nice, but I'd rather have been able to afford to pay for chemo instead.

Top Pot Doughnuts. Better in this life than the next one.
The two of them stood side by side, cans of spray paint spread across the pavement. Their heads are tipped to the side like confused dogs. The orange light of the street lamp striates over the puddles and through the bored air currents rushing rubbish impatiently down the street.     (more)
"Holy shit, check out these kick-ass boots!"
Black biker boots had replaced the red desert-boots she'd covered my feet with earlier.
"What did you do?"
"Who? Moi? Look in the mirror chica, it wasn't me. You did it all by your lonesome."
She's really bad at hiding condescension and(more)