BibliophileI drove by that old coffee shop yesterday. When I saw it, the tip of my foot twitched towards the break, before remembering that there wasn’t anyone waiting for me anymore. The chalkboard sign still read “Welcome” in cursive French, and the usual group of hipsters and loners sat outside on the steps, enjoying the rare clear sky with fruity Italian sodas and iced chais. It felt different not to stop there. It felt wrong.Bibliophile2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
So on my way home, in the opposite direction, I finally gave in and walked inside, for old time’s sake. It looked the same, with long floorboards, knotted bruise marks in the wood and dents from furniture legs. It was chilly, the way it had always been, with high, lofty ceilings and a single fan that was never on. The first thing that had always caught my eyes were the tall, giant bookshelves. They were stuffed to the brim with books, their spines multi-colored and smelling of wax. Some had definitely seen better days.
But the same could be said
This Used to be our BenchI walked down the winding path, so narrow and so tedious to navigate, by myself. It was dark, but I knew the way well since you and I had been here many times before. As I made my way farther and farther down the path to my intended destination, I held the picture of you close to my chest. I felt raindrops start to fall down from the sky, but I did not quicken my pace. I only held your picture closer to me. I wanted to enjoy every moment of this walk, for it was the last time I knew I would walk down this path, our path ever again.This Used to be our Bench2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I had a hood I could’ve covered my hair with to keep myself dry, but I didn’t. You loved the rain, and the raindrops reminded me of our first kiss. I closed my eyes along the way recalling the way you had held me close to you as the rain had splattered my face and made my make-up run down my cheeks.
“You are so beautiful,” you had said as you gently leaned in to kiss me. I was so scared, because I had never been kissed before, b
Ghosts in this MachineThe gear slips as the cog easesGhosts in this Machine4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
past the missing teeth
and slowly, one by one, the parts
begin to show signs of weakness.
The cylinders sigh with the hiss of steam as
the engine is forced
to tick over in its idle state,
shakily breathing between
the unexpected periods of hypermanic full-tilt and
static inanimate existence.
Un-manned controls at the helm
show evidence of interaction, but
that is all...all
till the next time
a foot hit's the floor and
the world races by...
Till then there will only be
ghosts in this machine...