Collective Unrest

 

Her Name Was Juliette

March 13, 2019

TW for school shooting and death

 

They knocked down the oldest house in the neighborhood a couple weeks ago. It was white with grey stone layering and an orangey-red Spanish roof.  It had a jumbled and unstructured design, with some portions being far too big, like the garage, and others being far too small, like the windows. It was the last of thirteen houses that were knocked down in the neighborhood. In front of the house, there was a beautiful garden of sunflowers. She used to admire them on her walk to the corner of the block where the bus arrives.

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It’s the End of the World and We Know It

March 13, 2019

I haven’t been sleeping and the only REM I get is listening to their last album with original lineup, surprised by my sadness, the end of harmony. The scientists agree that there have never been more ways for the world to end, earth toasted like a marshmallow, plague, bombs, lust, greed.

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I Know the Answer

March 13, 2019

*TW for suicide and depression   A pretty girl I hardly know asks me if I'm doing okay. Not too fast: No. Yea. I'm doing good. We briefly talk after about dinosaurs, about the oxymoronic expression Good Road Rage, and then I go.

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Night Shift Snack Break

March 6, 2019

I insert the coins into the money slot. Then, the small pack of soda crackers that is first in line gets betrayed by its comrade immediately behind:

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Jason Can’t Take A Joke

March 6, 2019

*TW for sexual assault and abortion   First are the boxes from Burger King with the half-eaten Whoppers inside, the boxes that Jason shoves under the seats of his girlfriend’s cars because making them root out some unidentifiable rotting thing is funny, and she stacks them on the driver’s seat of his Range Rover, because hey, it’s a Friday in May and hot as fuck and Jason and the baseball team are on their way to a game in Pensacola and he won’t use this car again till Sunday, and so she takes her time with it, in fact, she’s downright leisurely,

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a theory of anatomies

March 6, 2019

The men found her and sat on her legs, winding her body backwards and forwards until all that was left was a wind up toy plucked out of a child’s jewelry box.

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Mob Rule

February 27, 2019

Consider this sea of movement, the multitude in waves. Now, deceptively calm, until by a mysterious wave of a demagogue’s hand, it shall arise tidal to sweep and ruin everything in its path.

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