Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Just...one...more...quarter...
Was the boy sorry for what he did? No. But he was sorry for the way things turned out.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Infinity minus one.
There were always other girls.
There were lists and lists of girls that, over the years, would call on the boy. He was their favorite, the one they kept returning to over and over again. He slept with them all, if by slept one meant fitfully drifted in and out of consciousness next to their sleeping forms. Occasionally they would kiss him, to show they were willing...if only...but just...not right now...
All of these women, sometimes two or three at a time. How could he be alone? The stars, the stars, oh how he hated the stars.
"But, boy," they'd say. "You have so much. Why do you always ignore that?"
The boy would usually agree with them, to show willing...if only...but just...not right now...
At night, he would watch the sky, but the stars were cold and distant.
There were lists and lists of girls that, over the years, would call on the boy. He was their favorite, the one they kept returning to over and over again. He slept with them all, if by slept one meant fitfully drifted in and out of consciousness next to their sleeping forms. Occasionally they would kiss him, to show they were willing...if only...but just...not right now...
All of these women, sometimes two or three at a time. How could he be alone? The stars, the stars, oh how he hated the stars.
"But, boy," they'd say. "You have so much. Why do you always ignore that?"
The boy would usually agree with them, to show willing...if only...but just...not right now...
At night, he would watch the sky, but the stars were cold and distant.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
