Dawn.

Quick note: the following is an unedited prose piece I started on a little while ago. I would like to work with it a bit more, but I feel I just need it to be looked at by another pair of eyes. Let me know what you think. (Likes, dislikes, changes, elaborations, etc.)

I woke up and stretched. My fists reached toward the ceiling and I let out a yawn that made lions a little worried. This morning felt different from the previous ones. I didn't linger under the covers imagining you were holding me in your arms. I pushed my feet to the floor and didn't check the pillow for where your head might have been. I wiped the sleep from my eyelids and not once did my blink lengthen to welcome a thought of your presence.
Something felt loose, but not out of place. In fact, something felt like it had finally been put back, returned to its rightful owner. I waltzed into bathroom, lighter than when I had gone to sleep somehow. "What was it?" I blandly thought to myself. Whatever it was that wasn't there, it had taken the pit from my stomach with it.
I thought about nothing and my body understood that I needed to get to work at a certain time. In my mind, I sat back and relaxed in an open field of tall grass. I squinted at the sun until noon. I got up and chased the squirrels and the butterflies and the pollen in the air. In my imaginary world, I was just me and having the fun that I wanted to have.
I get home and sit down. I wonder what's missing as though my life were a children's puzzle. I ask myself, "What used to be here that isn't anymore?" But really, the answer always comes in the form of another question: "What was there before that was replaced by what is now missing?"
I come to see that I live in a series of replacements. And that when I lost one central part of my life, another came to take it's place. So when I lost my sanity, I found you. And when you left, I found a void filled with endless sadness and pain and suffering. And suddenly, today, that void has finally been replaced with life again; a forest of life grown over the smoldering ruins of a dark fantasy world. I'll admit, I still remember why that hole was made, but I think it even more amazing and awesome that the patch has grown so full in one night.
I anticipate what else I get to weave into this great pattern of waking fresh and new at the end.

The Diner Waitress

No one could ever say she wasn’t faithful. She was beautiful and powerful. We were a team. Speeding down highways, running from the cops, keeping my friends safe... And now, atop of this hill, she finally gave out. It was here that Betty’s engine coughed to an oily, steaming halt.





It is important to note, and mostly for sheer amusement, that Betty was my first beloved car. And while we never ran from the cops together, she did die in a rather dramatic fashion. We had also decided that if she were ever to be personified, she'd be that scummy diner's waitress---the one with reallllyyyy thick makeup on and a raspy voice from all that smoking over the years. The waitress that called everyone "hon" or "sweetie" and half the time didn't reat you like she meant it that way. She wears pink tennis shoes and drinks her coffee black. Probably owns a rifle. Or is terrified of them. Either could kick your ass or is the first to die. That was Betty.

Sixty words

It was beautiful: too early for runners or fishermen, just late enough for a sunrise.
We parked the car next to the pier.
I opened the trunk and began to lift.
I thought to myself, “It’s been too long since I worked out.”

One, two, THREE!

The body floated hesitantly then slipped under leaving only a trail of bubbles behind.