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Bob Biter · 09-05-2005, 03:42 PM

tecoyah = hunger
ngdawg = lovesickness

A breath cools her down too fast, so she holds it in: changes the winter cloud into a summer breeze, then lets it go relunctantly. The air gives to her freely, even on Monday mornings. It's not going anywhere. Maybe she should move and take it with her down to the bus station, the coffee shop or maybe the park if the cops are gone.

No, she put in time right here, by the subway. No way she's leaving now, when it might pay off. The subway and the morning rush. Her slot machine. Here's a blue suit coming over, picking up the pace. She pulls the lever and counts down: 3... 2... 1... No go. Two cherries and a treasure chest for her. No big prize, just dissapointment that lost its sting long ago, but she likes it now. It's familiar, a habit, a pair of old jeans worn by the pavement.

Next up, college wear. Converse and jean jacket making eye contact. The vibe of liberal arts, protests and road trips. Always a good sign. She takes in another winter cloud as metal hits the ground, bouncing like little thunderclaps.

Jackpot.

She takes it before it fades away, like that smile she used to have.

09-05-2005, 03:42 PM	#4 (permalink)
Bob Biter Non-smokers die everyday Location: Montreal	tecoyah = hunger ngdawg = lovesickness A breath cools her down too fast, so she holds it in: changes the winter cloud into a summer breeze, then lets it go relunctantly. The air gives to her freely, even on Monday mornings. It's not going anywhere. Maybe she should move and take it with her down to the bus station, the coffee shop or maybe the park if the cops are gone. No, she put in time right here, by the subway. No way she's leaving now, when it might pay off. The subway and the morning rush. Her slot machine. Here's a blue suit coming over, picking up the pace. She pulls the lever and counts down: 3... 2... 1... No go. Two cherries and a treasure chest for her. No big prize, just dissapointment that lost its sting long ago, but she likes it now. It's familiar, a habit, a pair of old jeans worn by the pavement. Next up, college wear. Converse and jean jacket making eye contact. The vibe of liberal arts, protests and road trips. Always a good sign. She takes in another winter cloud as metal hits the ground, bouncing like little thunderclaps. Jackpot. She takes it before it fades away, like that smile she used to have. __________________ A plan is just a list of things that don't happen.