Robert Vaughan – January Day 2

The Bittersweet

The School pay to make dreams sort of happen. They don’t promise this will happen, but you can tell a sort of artist resume —weight, height, eye and hair color black and white too curvy too short no loyalty next money makers. IT. You are not it. But you hope the way...

Two Erasures from Wasteland

Nothing earthshaking here and they need more work, although I think I returned some dignity to the bored typist and well, the dog is okay. Unreal City,(Dogs, too, in the Wasteland) death sighs, short and infrequent flow up the hill with a dead sound I knew, and stop...

Secondhand Man

You want to see poverty, let me take you home to Sobral. I grew up eating dust, sand, the odd nut, and improvised verse. This was before rap and funk and the big supermarkets sold soda and microwave popcorn. We were the inspiration for popcorn. I sang in church and...

Epistolary Down a Well

Hi All - again, i misunderstood the timing, so apologies for this late entry. i loved all the reading and this exercise. I combined the epistolary prompt with the "use your imagination" prompt and sort of came up with a hybrid, interrupted letter (started to write it...

So She Was

"The future is a past that has not yet come to pass. Do you ever suddenly find it strange to be yourself?" –Clarice Lispector The hollow monotony vibrates through porous mouths. Intoxication of sky lodges its devouring yawn between humans and me. Cigarettes blind the...

More Beautiful Than the Moon

He said he’d lasso me the moon, George Bailey-style. He stroked the bluish-purple moonstone on my ring finger, an heirloom from my grandmother, and whispered that he’d get me a real one. A proper moon stone for a wedding ring. “But I like this one,” I said. He shook...

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