One in a series of short things I kind of jot down once in awhile. I call 'em Sketches, as in, a quick sketch of what I've just seen, or head, or felt or smelt. You get the idea.

Fresh Coffee

She was sitting on a bench inside, near the front doors where they keep the shopping carts and firewood. “I only came here to get some cat food, because I have three cats,” she said to the men standing over her. Her hands were trembling and she clutched a fresh cup of coffee, the take-out kind that comes in a cardboard cup with a plastic top.

The woman didn’t know why she was telling these strangers this, or why the strangers were with her.

It started out as a trip to the store for some food and a cup of coffee. She looked pretty and felt happy. Maybe she would see something she hadn’t thought she needed. Maybe she would meet someone. Have a conversation. Make a friend.

But now she was sitting on a bench trying to ignore the questioning eyes of customers on their way out. They already had their bags. They were done, ready to head out into the frigid winter night. Why couldn’t she be more like them?

The coffee in her hand was still warm. She remembered that it had tasted good only a few minutes earlier.

And she sat, fighting back the tears of confusion — grateful for the company, and sad that she needed

Just another Sunday

A dirty house with brown carpets and musty walls. Half empty boxes and piles of clean clothes that look dirty. We're afraid to touch them, so we pick something heavy and move it to the car.
Drug addicted mother and crying children scrambling at her knees. Tar colored walls and a moldy refrigerator. Eating Pizza off a napkin. No! Don't touch anything!
But you have to. They're your friends and you have a truck.
It's part of the curse.

Lost I Love You

A lost I Love You found in a parking lot. Buried under blacktop gravel.Flattened by abuse and waiting to be worn again. Its tarnished, scratched, gold heart peeking up at anyone interested enough to look down. Its 12 cloud-gray eyes very nearly closed.
A Lost I Love You, left by someone who didn't know. Forgotten. Flattened by the weight it carried.

Try, "They're your in-laws and you had to rent a truck for them."



It's very evocative. It also hits pretty close to home.

Thanks. They're kind of like journal entries.

Just dug this one up. Kind of random.

Short, squat and bald, shirtless and walking down old New Road, a baby boa constructor draped across his soldiers. 90 degree heat in May.

Painting word pictures like a quick sketched watercolor, vibrant and alive, Wonderful!!