Trampled

May 14
2016

Josiah thought it was damn near impossible. He’d never thought this before; usually standing up from the booth and walking to the bathroom didn’t take much. But now, drunk as he was, drunker than he had ever been, he wasn’t sure his body would do what he wanted. Just standing up was tricky, so he tried to stare at the TV above the bar hoping it would look like he was watching the rodeo.

His tongue sought out the long whiskers on the side of his mouth. A gesture Dot used to say made him look “madder than an Old King Crow”. He never did find out what an Old King Crow was and now Dot was dead so what did it matter anyway?

The Father, The Son, And Me

Jan 17
2016

I stand on my parents’ back lawn, dead brown grass crunching under my feet, early morning light slithering through the trees and watch through the kitchen window as my father finally chokes my mother to death. Workman’s hands stained brown from years of carpentry clutch my mother’s neck like a child clutches a favorite toy. After all these years, he’s found his strength and it shows in the white half-moons that appear on Momma’s neck underneath the tips of his fingers.