Ashley

We met on a bus. Going places.

She said something, I said something else.

I made her laugh, she made me smile. We got off at 24th street and walked together for a couple blocks. I remember we talked about comedians, and I remember liking the way she pronounced things, and I remember walking slowly.

The time came for us to part ways, but we stayed on the corner just a minute longer, and now here we are, two months later. Life’s about going places, until a moment comes along when you realize you’re right where you want to be.

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Art by Craig Towsley

I watched a man bleed out and die in my kitchen. I mean, yes, I shot him. I Killed him, I suppose. Eventually, he died. It wasn’t quick like in the movies. He flopped around for a long time. Tried to crawl away. I watched. Horrified and at the same time wishing I had a bowl of popcorn. I watched as his blood ran out of him and seeped into the raw wood floor.

My kitchen floor. It’s a conversation piece. People say it’s morbid, macabre and gruesome even. I say, isn’t all art really, and chuckle along with them.

It’s always worth it

Two men walked down the sidewalk, bundled in scarves and hats, long jackets, and boots. It may be the West coast, but no matter what anyone said, San Francisco was fucking cold.

“Well, say something, man.”

The sidewalk was peppered with dark grey, a light drizzle beginning to form. They kept walking. A homeless woman asked them for money, anything, change, even. They shook their heads, said sorry, and passed on.

“Was it worth it?” he finally said.

The other man fingered the business card he had been keeping in pocket for the past few weeks.

“It’s always worth it.”

Future Naturalist

When Arthur got to be seven, he decided that spiders weren’t so terrible after all.

Soon after he startled a parson spider in the basement. It scrambled on the shag rug and into the crack behind a bookshelf. It terrified him. Instinctually, he wanted to rock that bookshelf back against the wall until the spider got smashed.

But he stopped himself. It was a decision. He’d let that spider live, even if he’d have trouble sleeping at night. It was an interesting spider. It was cool. Anyway, if he really wanted to be a naturalist, he couldn’t kill anything, right?

The Lazy Buddha

Here’s a foolproof guide to feeling great about yourself while never having to do work. Some call it being lazy, some call it achieving zen.

• Tell yourself that you have lots of good ideas.
• Confirm this by writing your good ideas down on notes and keeping them around.
• Decide one day to actually work on an idea.
• Think to yourself: “It’s been so long since I first thought of this idea, I must not love it.”
• Move on to next idea on the next post-it note, looking for an idea that you really love.
• Get bored, return to step 1.

Graffiti

When they were both sophomores, she began graffiting walls at school. She kept her pen in the bottom of her backpack and never told anybody about her hobby.

One day, after basketball team practice, Jakob saw her tagging the principal’s door sign. They locked eyes, he cracked a smile, she bit her lip and blinked twice.

It was the only time she’d been caught, and this was two years ago.

He told no one else. He would look around the hallways for her latest work, and when he found it, they’d talk about it the next time they slept together.

If You See Her, Say Hello

I mean, people wear makeup to look like this girl.

People smoke weed to be as relaxed as she is.

They run laps to be as fit, they read magazines to have the style. They study religion to have the soul. They travel to see what she sees.

They drink booze to feel as warm.

They dance to feel as loose.

They ride bikes and run races to feel how she feels when she walks down the street.

They’ll pay anything to have the freedom that she has.

They wait their entire lives to take one breath like she does.

Mission 26

We’ll never go again. We’re hauling our
final Endeavour through the City of Angels’
thronging streets, a stub-winged relic
never more to seek the space between stars.
Larger-than-life, like a shipwreck it
is paraded past America dirty and inert,
majestic and distant, its white tail stiff
among all our rattling repair shops and
cops and living roof of palm fronds.
Telephone lines are lifted, speeches given
to scientists and astronauts and discovery,
lofty soliloquys that slide off the lumpish
shuttle and its spent history, silent technology.
The greatest frontier forsaken, they take our
once thunderous aim away to a museum.