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Living the Dream A thousand florescent bulbs humming overhead and the wet asthmatic cough of the ventilation system started the headache, but the constant assault of malaprops and mispronounciations at my ears like a swarm of angry insects was what cemented it firmly into place. Brushing them away with an idle hand, I continued to hand my ninety-nine cent items to the cashier, shamefully pulling them from a cheap plastic basket and setting them on the snaking tongue of the conveyor belt, where they were delivered to the zombie who scanned and bagged them, mouth agape and eyes dead. I looked at my wallet and sighed, only five dollars left forLiving the Dream
by ~Constantcough
All Yours Smoking a cigarette outside of the funeral home, coat pulled tight around me and shoes sticking to the new asphalt they just laid down in the parking lot. You come out wearing that lab-coat thing and ask me for a light, so I agree and we're talking. You smell like Formaldehyde and flowers and wet paint and standing next to me your causing the air between us to sparkle with electricity. I can feel all my magnets pulling me towards you but I manage to stay still. "Did they just paint in there?" I ask. "How'd you know?" You say and your voice is creaky slow and soft like husAll Yours
by ~Constantcough
Love Story Stretched before us like the tunnels of light you follow to get to heaven, the tile, wax-coated aisles of the supermarket gleam in glorious paths. The florescent lights hum like a choir of angels overhead and the carefully arranged boxes and packages catch the eye like fields full of rare flowers. In the corners of the ceiling, security cameras watch like beady-eyed crows, mechanically cawing as they rotate and take in new sections of their environment.Love Story
The trick is not to let the crows see you.
We stand holding hands at the start of the cereals and candies aisle. Behind us
by ~Constantcough
Favourites
As Glimpsed in the Dark Between the first week of July and the last week in August I used to vacation in the south of France. The food was good, the women were beautiful, and the wine was cheap. In the summer of 1946 I traveled to Corsica and met a girl who said she’d let me paint her if I took her out for dinner. She came to my apartment on a breezy afternoon when the curtains were blowing through the room. She rang the bell and I leaned out the window so that I could yell and tell her to come up. When she did get to my floor she knocked, and I stared at the door for a while before letting her iAs Glimpsed in the Dark
by ~Pocto-Bella
EPOTI 04by *justflyakite
The writerby =tasteofomi
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