The Night Doorman

There is a jagged crack in the ceiling of this freight elevator; paint over a splintered fracture that buckles slightly in the center. Two pieces pushed together impatiently and then abandoned to decide for themselves how they fit. Hardly noticeable. A doorman runs the freight elevator even though it is automated. The day shifter runs... Continue Reading →

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It Makes Fools of Us All

When I die, I want my ashes to be made into projectiles. Like guerrilla gardening seed bombs. Just a pinch of me in a bundle with the seeds from big, hearty, colorful flowers. Maybe some glitter. Wrapped in tulle bags like the ones they throw at weddings. I don't know who I could ask to do that for... Continue Reading →

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