Tag: writer

The Tour

Canoe is wrong. We did not go in a car. We travelled by air in a banana. A slice of apple was our portion, and a piece of bread. Are you familiar with manna? That is what it was like—almost. We climbed up into the battleship. I know it sounds preposterous. That’s because it is. We rode a long yellow bus—not a school bus. This bus had beds, a sink, a stove, a shower, and a microwave oven.there was only four of us, and the driver. Not a canoe or a battleship. A long, yellow bus.

Bitterness

Tell her the only truth she will accept.

Cut through the shock and denial

Pierce that bubble of gin in her head.

A bottle in her pocket kept her satisfied to the end.

Do you know what she wrote on that piece of paper that she folded up and handed to me?

Neither do I, I threw it into the fire without reading it.

Whatever it was, wasn’t worth reading, I’m sure.

She

She herself was very very comely. Saturated with moisturizer and full of milk and honey. She wore a dress that accented her features. She danced well and drank just a few, not enough to get drunk. She drove a corvette away from the club, out into the country. She liked coming into the city occasionally. Her dogs greeted her at the driveway to her house. That was all.