a jib crane and eventual death

a jib crane and eventual death
the caving metal roof, last century’s rust


five more minutes

I don’t wear a watch, I find a watch, spy on everybody, scan every wrist. Who has the time? I do, stolen, sneakily obtained by immoral means, by bending and turning my head and casually stretching to feign interest in strange black birds whispering outside the windows of monotonous chemistry classes. (when does this end?)

Chocolate Pudding: microfiction

The king of the whole world was perplexed. He had lived on obliviously through the drought, flood, and famine that ended with obesity rates soaring.