Showing results for 2014
I ask the sun to call me at night on my walk home. Everyday I become a little more<a class="more" href="/web_features/water-pipes-made-wavy-from-heat-in-the-sunshine-estate">... more</a>
I thought about taking a picture of the book or, perhaps, a selfie of me<a class="more" href="/web_features/i-write-music-for-soundtracks-now-my-struggle-with-my-struggle-book-1">... more</a>
Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like squeegeeing sewage out the back door of the break room for three hours. Or push-brooming a greenhouse until your black snot could be used as an adhesive. Cupping each writhing Bag-a-Bug to see if they’ve eaten their fill of Japanese beetles.
I never knew a woman who wasn’t capable of killing me with a sentence. Until now?
You are obsolete. The cashier in your neighborhood’s grocery store is obsolete. The typesetter—who placed each individual letter for the headlines of the morning paper—is obsolete. Tollbooths barely require someone to stand sentry in the middle of the highway to collect coins anymore and soon enough lasers will replace surgeons in operating rooms as well.