ronnie was a sandwich artist. that is to say, she worked at subway. but not just any subway, she was quick to tell anyone who would listen, the only subway in the state of wisconsin to win any award from HQ, let alone three years in a row. then she would slyly slip in, “i… Continue reading ronnie.
Category: long form writing
jimmy sue.
two birds sit on a fence post. one is blue, the other red. a cardinal. the birds peck their necks towards each other and away as if they are talking and also observing something else, perhaps watching the two figures who appear below them, stepping into the cemetery, leaves crunching underneath their feet. the only… Continue reading jimmy sue.
on the coming apocalypse and the desire for a warm body in your bed.
he got in his cab that morning in a sore mood. his wife, yuna, had forgotten to turn on the coffee maker when she awoke, as usual, one hour before he did. she used this time to get both of them ready for the day. this included but was not limited to; laying out his… Continue reading on the coming apocalypse and the desire for a warm body in your bed.
let me tell you about my heart
my heart is a quiet brick house at the end of a long road of trees surrounded by a cornfield. 216 West Cunningham Rd., Winnebago, IL. the “bagel house”, my sister abby, then 3, called it before we move in. we sleep on the kitchen floor on mattresses for a year after moving in. the… Continue reading let me tell you about my heart
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