my heart with you: the rescues
Categories: sounds • Tags: my heart with you, the rescues
glendale
“I feel sooooooooo bad. I really feel horrible. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Can I take you out to dinner or something? Please. Let me take you out to dinner.” I was kneeling on his floor with a bloody nose, swollen lips, and a couple of cute cuts. (They were cute -small and very happy to be alive and bleeding.) “I don’t even have anything here. Let me see if the neighbors are home […]
Categories: Uncategorized • Tags: bloody nose, Glendale, how to ask someone out on a date, short story
“You’re too you…
“You’re too young for a diary. You don’t have anything to write about.” Mom gave me this response every time I asked if I could have a diary. She was right. I’ve kept them all and for a solid year there’s nothing to read about except all the animals I wanted to take home when we would go to the pet store for parakeet food. Eventually boys show up. They faded quickly. The most consistent entries were dedicated to dreams, […]
Categories: snippets • Tags: all I've ever wanted, diaries, mom advice, secrets
privacy + security
The windows in her daughter’s room are bare, which is usually the case when I’m called out. Four walls of lavender, a white ceiling and trim, and peach picture molding sends me back to having my first unshared bedroom. It was lavender, I liked eating peaches, and I wore white cotton underwear. One window is to my left, facing the neighbor’s kitchen, and three windows straight ahead face the street. The installer knows that when he receives the shades, he’ll […]
Categories: stories • Tags: bare windows, children, craft time, privacy, rocking chair, window treatments
& his other passion
Categories: sounds
his name was charles t. his name is ansar
Ansar’s voice is amazing. It’s as rich and dark and bold as his black as night skin. It makes you tremble. It freezes you. Only after the initial shock of its strength can you begin listening to it. I can faintly hear his voice at the top of the staircase, where the sounds of urban street sprawl mix with the sounds of urban underground transportation. With every step downward, his volume increases – I’m getting closer. At the bottom of […]
Categories: sounds
el cerrito
There was a time in my life when I embraced strange men and the experiences that came with them. Lunch or dinner lead to me being wrapped in duct tape and modeling for photography sessions. Overweight gold chained characters, heavy on the gray chest hair, fed me fried ice cream. Lovers two and a half times my age stained motel carpets with red candle wax. Store owners closed shop early for backroom boogy. And today I guess I’m not too […]
Categories: secrets, stories • Tags: anger, art, BART, butt crack, El Cerrito, Japan, jaul, life story, short story, whiskey
“You are folded…
“You are folded like origami, like paper you cut, as I taste the blood pulsating in the corner of my lip…Thinking about your the uncompromizing position and how you can make lots of money…” My hairdresser sends me texts with typos sometimes.
Categories: snippets
you will receive
Categories: scribbles
scenes from today (a long time ago)
geometric planes of styrofoam dancing in traffic, obliterated into snow, bouncing on asphalt instead of melting into blackness mutt hut bunny’s doll palace entenmann’s bakery outlet candy corner San Leandro has stolen my heart several times in the past five years, but it always gives it back. My heart has been taken again, and I’m doing just fine without a beat. If you only know San Leandro by its main thoroughfares, it’s a simple and bland city. Isolated pockets of […]
Categories: Uncategorized
drearose 