Short Story: Standing on an Empty Street Without Direction

Lena breathed in the chilly night air.

It was the hour of the morning when the previous night’s mistakes lingered but hadn’t taken root into full-blown regrets.
She looked up the street.

Then down the street

Then back to me sitting on the stoop, head in hands, fighting off the oncoming hangover.

Poem: The Mock Epic of Blond Beard

The seven seas had never seen such a terror
As blond beard the first pirate of Nebraska
He had applied his pirating skills
Selling his yard sale finds on eBay
To fund his pirate ship the Emma Lee
A beauty of steel of polymer
With patches of bright white
Seats for two and off board motor
That once ran and would run again
Once he got permission from the missus

Short Story: Looking for Something

A hand with painted nails caresses the wall in the dark before finding the light switch. Fluorescent lights flicker on, casting the entire room in the whitest of white lights. No shadows tread under their radiance.

With swaying hips, her presence fills the sparse room that smells of sweet perfumes and sin.

At the far end of the space, antique furniture made by an artisan’s loving hand, arranged in a semicircle. There was a trunk of deep mahogany with crushed velvet lining, an ornately carved wardrobe made of solid walnut, a painted vanity splayed with beauty products, and a perfectly polished full-length mirror.

The keepers of her treasures awaited their mistress to explore their depths.

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