Trash In The Street

There’s a metal plate of unknown origin spinning like a coin in the street. Its faces never meet the ground because a transcriptionist sees it from her patio and rushes out to keep the roads clear of anything that could get in somebody’s way. She holds it loosely, by the rim, between her palms to avoid touching […]

Bad Friend

When my friend died they lined up and down the street to say goodbye. Girls in tight sequence dresses and old teachers in fuzzy cardigans, were all crying softly to themselves waiting for their turn to touch his cold face. I don’t know why human beings need to touch things but if I had to […]