timid animal

I apologize for the lack of posts this week. On Monday I had a king-sized headache, and on Tuesday I took photographs instead.

Back to our regularly-scheduled busting of writer’s block! This prose poem is courtesy of my spam folder.

“Too busy to go back to school?” she huffed, dangling the highball glass between thumb and ring-finger. Ice cubes clacked. “I should have seen it coming.” And with that I remembered why I hated her, that slick brow over flat eyes. She went to wakes but never funerals, something about the smell of turned earth, of coffins. I was a replica watch on her wrist, telling time while never knowing how late it was. “You can trick the nature and make a monster of your timid animal.” I fantasized about the heft of the paperweight on her desk. She’ll never be disappointed again.

[Want to help me bust through my writer’s block this month? Read about this exercise!]

One thought on “timid animal

  1. There’s a special folder of literary spam here just for gems like the timid animal you saved.

    “We’re all spies!” shouted Dr. Bull. “Come and have a drink.”
    this”–his breath laden with whisky was like a halo round Martin’s “Poor thing.” They kissed each other tenderly and languidly.
    method left him rather at the mercy of an enemy slightly deficient in
    A lieutenant of the medical corps came to the door and looked out. He
    Christians were merciful. Yet this did not prevent their being accused of
    stones. Then he turned to the Secretary, whose frightful mouth was almost
    faces, that had grown fiercer and fiercer with approval as his tirade grew
    “I regret to inform you,” said Syme with restraint, “that your remarks
    Every movement of the old man’s tottering figure and vague hands, every
    scornful. Whatever he was he was not a Frenchman; he might be a Jew;

    Hee hee!

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