Forget the Rain

The sky began to weep. Rachel had lost her job, her husband, and now her only daughter was in the hospital. She sat outside the grayed hospital on a nearby bench, waiting for the bus to take her home. Against the cold and the rain, she kept her arms tucked under her arms.

A man had come out of the hospital, and begun to smoke. Rachel, who had not smoked in thirty years asked the man. “Can I bum a cigarette?” The man took a drag, then handed her one. She pulled out her own lighter, one she used for lighting candles in her home, lit the cigarette, and took a drag.

Wisdom for all of us

There is a large empty space,

One that lacks even the faintest of light,

Yet, it shines even though it is dark.


I stood upon gravel and sand,

In the bottom of this space,

Yet, I found no greeting,

Yet, nothing was fleeting.


It all remained,

Together, without decay.

All stood together.


I remain, to this day, with

This wisdom, for all of us.



Against the hordes of men and women, I stood tall. On that stage, the light to my back, and the jeans I wore, a little stained, I stood tall. They crowded into the auditorium. Some came in pairs, others came alone, but they all came to see my great work. I walked to the mic. “Check one, check two.” I turned around and went behind the curtain. Then, the real centerpiece arrived and stole the show.

Anxiety: Doing something wrong.

I stared at my phone. The notification light blinked the same color as always. That same color heralded in notifications I loved, and notifications I loathed. I laid in bed, barely awake, and opened my email. In no short amount of words, the email described how I had failed to complete an assignment to the professors standard, describing in detail how wrong I had been.

I laid in bed, and pulled the blankets over my head. The soft, cool feeling couldn’t evaporate the feeling from within my gut. “What did I do wrong? How did I mess up? Why didn’t they tell me sooner?”

I jolted awake in bed and began pacing about my room. Messy, clothes thrown everywhere, my laptop still perched on my bed beheld the some notification on the screen. “You did something wrong. You did something wrong.” I did’t hear the words, but I felt it in my gut.


I emptied my the water bottle in the gutter. The people around me continued to walk by. I placed the bottle into my bag, and joined the crowed. The streets were crowded, people of various races and creeds wandered the streets searching for their destination. We eventually arrived at the kiosk.

Surprisingly it went by quick. It was my first time here, so I didn’t know what to expect. I stood in line for five minutes, keeping to myself, checking the time on my watch and watching other people stare at their tickets and head to their platform. Eventually it was my turn.

The kiosk stood before me, red and yellow. Mariah, the woman behind the kiosk counter, asked me a few simple questions. “How old are you,” “what hobbies do you have,” and “have you ever been with us before?” I’m 47, never had any hobbies, and no. She gave me a ticket, and ushered the next guest.

“Basement level 2, room 47: Black Tower.”

I headed to the tower. Surprisingly no one else was going to this place. I felt important. I felt good. “I must be unique,” I hopefully told myself. Then I entered the glossy tower, and into the elevator I went. I expected to find the button to the basement. But there was none there. I tried to press other buttons and open the door. But nothing happened. I’m still waiting in the elevator, in the building where no one goes.

A Little Low

He stood at the edge of the cliff, waiting for an answer to come from above. None came, yet still he continued to wait. And wait he did. He made a camp, planted crops, and caught wild game. Still, he continued to wait.

The cliff overlooked a vast array of clouds and mountains. He rested and stood at the highest plateau available to humans. Any higher and he would die. Any lower and he feared he would receive no answer. Each mountain held vegetation, the lower down, the more people there would be to greet him, should he return. But he never did.

One morning, like any other, where his body had grown frail, and his beard grown to his collar bones, and the hair on his head to his ears, he finally had his answer. He stood, amongst the clouds in the morning air as they covered all lower cliffs and mountains. With one step, he walked out into the sunrise.

Call out the Trees

We heard a sound, it beat against the trees and shook the ground. Alice looked at me with her slanted doe eyes, surprise and fear outstretched upon her face. “It’s ok,” I told her. “Lets stay under the brush for awhile, it won’t find us.”

We found a crevice in the wet dirt, completely covered by foliage and rock. “Do you think we’ll be safe?” She asked, speaking under her breath. “Shhh, yeah, it’ll be ok, it didn’t see us, or hear us.”

The thudding grew louder, the trees continued shaking and rattling the roots all around us. Alice pressed her hands to her mouth, leaving tears along her cheeks. I stood up, pushed my gaze close, looking through the foliage. “Hey,” I looked back down towards her, “I think it’s gone.”

“A-are you sure?” She trembled against the cold wet ground, her shorts and shirt now covered in dirt and wet leaves.

“Yeah, come on.” I climbed up out of the grass. In a clear path, the trees were knocked over and cleared out of its way. The tracks it left, they lead down towards town in their continued, round, circular pattern.