Susan who choked to death loved the husband, loved his neighborliness. She loved him from her driveway and windows, front and back yards, day and night dreams.
In order to write, I needed the writing process to disappear. But without the writing process, obviously I wouldn’t be a writer.
My presentation at the co-working space was a smash, meaning afterward people smashed the windows with rocks.
My 7th grade English teacher was just three toddlers stacked on top of each other. The middle toddler googled every question we asked on an iPhone. You could see it through his shirt, star-bright.
The world felt like something awful impending. June gloom had set in early; Mercury was back in retrograde. Everyone was jittery, uncertain, a little gun shy.
A rainbow is feeling down, suicidal even. It takes some pills and a bottle of gin to a park, ready to end it all.
I studied the rustle of the stately rain tree when I couldn’t see the blackboard and knew Pollock’s Number 30 before I ever experienced autumn.
Perfect bound | 100 pages | Paperback | Die-cut matte cover | 6×6″
OUT EARLY FALL
Read a page before sleep and thou shalt dream insanely.
–Alex van Warmerdam
Director of Palme d’Or nominated film ‘Borgman’
Saturday, April 29
3 to 5 PM CST (Zoom)
$25-75 (sliding scale)
