Lux1311

My brain is dead; buried in a shallow grave covered in soggy coffee grounds and stale cereal dust. At the unwelcome radio alarm, it crawls on decaying dreams into the morning haze of the waking world, groggy and sightless. Bemoaning the chipper state of the “morning people”, it drools thoughts of the heavy sleep and the pillowy headstones it has been roused from. There is only one thing it craves, salivates over, at this time of day. Only one thing that can cure it of its zombified state. A cure found at every Starbucks and Tim Hortons, for a small price. On limbs stiff with rigour somnis, it leads its bleary-eyed host to

  He stood by the window, peering down into a night thick with the remnants of hot-boxed cars, underage drinking, and bad decisions. With his back to the bed and the girl, he stood, staring into a dark world on the other side of the window. A world illuminated by a few distant stars and even fewer street lights. Laughter drifted up from the back of a pickup parked in the driveway. The brief flame of a lighter through the canopy’s window, followed by the pulsing amber glow of a cigarette. As he watched, a couple wandered back toward the house hand in hand, murmuring to each other and smiling at their toes. He could see the back end of th

The spider has redecorated, painting the walls with silver tapestries. Dust tarnishes and silver becomes grey. Holes in the plaster have been stitched up, and doorways have been woven into lace curtains. The widow moves lightly along the floor, four pairs of feet leaving tracks in the grey snow. The thick fuzz covering the the floorboards breeds hares. The lop-eared balls of matted fur race each other each time the shutters open, and roll to a stop when the shutters bang shut. The wind is their checkered flag. It lives here too, the wind. Occasionally mimicking residents of the past as it screams into the chimney and shrieks against the weath

I can see you through my lens so clearly enclosed by the glass casement of your window although you do not see me as you lay your head upon your pillow. Enclosed by the glass casement of your window pale blush of skin reflected in your mirror as you lay your head upon you pillow drawing plush coverlets around you as you shiver. Pale blush of skin reflected in your mirror I want to trace my fingers along the curves of your neck drawing plush coverlets around you as you shiver aching to brush skin against skin. I want to trace my fingers along the curves of your neck listening to your breath hitch in your throat aching to brush skin against

Take it off; turn your mind to the curves, the muscles gripped by a sheen of sweat. He is covered by the smallest piece of fabric; She is veiled. Watch the dance, the song punctuated by cheers; feeling it pulsating to the beat; Gyrating in a cheap imitation of a man in uniform. Pupil-dialating movements on stage bringing the crowds to their feet. The show; they paid to see this. On the Strip, watch on. The strip, the show, bringing the crowds to their feet. On stage, pupil-dialating movements; in uniform, a cheap imitation of a man gyrating to the beat. Feeling it pulsating; the song punctuated by screams. Watch the dance: She is veiled b

The girl had been eaten by a pink tree branch, savaged by a jeweller’s eyeglass. Without sullying the weeds she died in a hole in the upper floor. Her feet squelching, rotting, she dried up. The neighbours divided her into pieces: a finger, a shin bone, an elbow, until there was nothing left but soft, white, rain.

She had snatched her hand back so abruptly at his touch. He had paused to appreciate the gentle curve of her neck before he’d asked for her business card. She had avoided all eye contact as she’d fumbled for the small glossed rectangle of card stock, dropping it hastily into his outstretched palm to avoid further contact. It had been tucked carefully in his breast pocket. He had gathered up the paper bags full of produce after thanking her—politely—and taking his leave. She had mumbled a garburated string of syllables before turning to greet the next customer in line with a smeared on smile.