First draft of the first page a terrible short story

For a brief moment the sounds of small explosions, bones splintering, heavily armored trucks driving by and men shouting hate, didn’t matter. Her life-filled bodied expanded and shrank. Curled in a make shift sleeping, that they had been living in for a few nights. Her left arm draped over the stomach of a man so manic it was thrilling. Eyes lazily closed, Ethan could see every hardship in every breath she was granted in this moment of peace. Ethan allowed himself to play with her thin-curled hair. The sun was slowly setting; this was possibly his favorite moment of his day. The small cracks in the between the panels let light enter into the small space, lighting up their legs. His hands roamed his old Levi jeans pockets, removing a small tin object. Circular in shape with a shined stone held tightly by crudely pressed hooks; he slid the ring on her finger. He smiled, and admired his own handy work.

It has been two weeks since they left the home that he thought he would spend the rest of his life in. They had been living with a group of people in a small commune on the banks of The James River. The community was pleasant, filled with former CAC members. The food was reliably poison-free, since the soil was untouched by industrial waste. Warm gently used clothes brought from scavengers, who always gave them first picks. That was the first time he did not have to think about the army, or infection. He had made friends there, made a home. Ethan and Alba even had a routine set. Everyday once the sunset they would wake up, eat a meal with their neighbors and go out on patrol. He thought this would never end, that they would settle down and start a family. Though Ethan knew Alba would never allow this to happen, her spirit was too curious to be fixed into a place. But a guy could dream he thought.

The sun was almost set now; Ethan removed the ring from Alba’s finger and put it back in his pocket. Like clockwork Alba woke up as soon as the sunset. Her brown eyes open and closed, she shifted slightly mumbling slightly. They lied there for a few seconds; Ethan smiling knowing Alba was not actually asleep. Yet he played along and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. Alba run her fingers up and down his forearm while whispering some phrase Ethan could never understand.

“I had a dream this morning.” Alba said without taking her hand off Ethan’s arm.

“Oh yeah, what was it about?” He lay there enjoying her touch.

“The Sun.”

Ethan moved his mouth by her ear “Mmm, what happened?”

“It was like before. We were outside with our backs bare, feeling the warmth without radiation,”

“Sounds nice.” He kissed her ear, then her neck.

“It was very nice, the grass was so green, and itchy.” Alba pressed up against Ethan; she allowed his hands to explore zippers and inseams.

“There was grass?” He asked with wispiness.

“ Mhm,” was all she could muster out.

“Mhm,” Ethan repeated in a higher octave.

Dear Providence

I have been in my lovely hometown of Providence, I'm on break. And I have loved every moment of it. I have so many pictures to edit when I get back. My life has been pretty hectic but amazing. I have wonderful people in my life that I would give up for the world.

I will being going to NYU Spring semester and who know what my life will look like after that.

I hope epic road trips.

The picture above is from a photo assignment, I though it was fitting.

Wanna Be

She was right off the boat
Speaking those smooth lines
Of a language forced into her mouth

He was your typical gringo
Claiming to understand
Those force lines that divided them

He never understood
Her Spanish phrases
She always found
His love of grits a little confusing

They claimed their lives together
Their souls swirled together like
A pint of dulce con leche ice cream
So different yet mixed so well

Conversations through electrical wires
That connected his odd nihilist tendencies
And her optimistic values
Sometimes those ideals clashed
And other times meshed

They traded mix tapes
With their cultures merged in between verses
And the silent pauses
But with those pauses came
An uneasy feeling

“Why does it matter” he shouts,
“Love shouldn’t judge on differences.”
He saw the world in black and white.

“You have that luxury,
that I wish I could afford.”
She viewed life in Technicolor.

Begrudgingly they pressed on
but 700 miles grew between them
Five hour phone calls
Became 20 minute ichat conversations

Slowly their garden of mix flowers
And oak trees
Began growing Spanish moss
As beautiful as it looks
It is gradually killing them
Those silent pauses become minutes
Those minutes into hours

He loves her.
She is afraid.
She is his Latina princess.
He is her white oppressor.

He wants to give her the world.
She wants to claim it for herself.

He talks about a small one bedroom
while she is speechless.

She wants his happiness,
He wants a wife.

She watches the moss,
He looks towards the sky.

The moss climbs up her legs
While he gets his ending.

Tiny spiders

Your hands have out grown mine

My hands were always smaller

But now, compared to yours, they look like cat’s paws

I never notice that their size

I guess I was dumb

I guess I was blind

I guess I just never paid attention

Now when your finger tips graze across mine

It feels like spiders are crawling up my hands

Like millions of tiny spiders

With long hairy legs

Are clinging on to my wrists

Like furry handcuffs that are whispering

For me not to go

Are yelling that I can’t go

They keep me there beside you

Your hands have become anchors

That hold me down when I have no plans of going anywhere

They are chained onto me by guilt for not loving enough

Like love could ever have a unit of measurement

But I guess for you it does

When you hold my hand it smothers mine

Binding my fingers

That once would be happy to

Play games with yours

Fingers that loved creating for you

Have now become prisoners in yours

But I smile and you smile

And we pretend that those spiders

Aren’t crawling in my skin

Aren’t all dying in my throat

Aren’t making it harder to breath

We just smile

And act like everything is okay

Your hands have gotten bigger

Now I can’t even find mine

Your hand will never stop growing

They grow from emptiness

From years of loneliness

They just want to fill a void

That just keeps getting larger

I once thought that I could fill your void

That our hands could change the world,

That our filangies were the key to both of our happinesses

that my hands fit perfectly in yours

But now your hands have eaten mine

And its too late because I can’t even feel my fingers anymore

I guess I’ve grown numb and

That this smile is just a nervous reaction to this coldness

And that I mistake that prickliness as love

Your hands have out grown mine

Those small freckles on your knuckles that looked so dainty

The freckles I used to count when you were asleep

The ones I wanted to kiss

now look like planets to me

MUTED STARS

As if the world would suddenly go quiet

Our hearts race against the light.

We always lose; we know we will always lose

Everyday we pretend that will change

Smiles plastered and cracked

Mark the loneness we share

Fingers laced so tightly

Numbness almost seems fitting

Still we cannot deny the warmth of the sun tip-toeing on our backs

Teasing us of what could be had

I stumble on the words,

As you try to capture the moonlight

Your box is always empty;

“the moon just steals from the sun”

She takes his palms and whispers solace into the sky

As if the stars will tell of his wish

Wishes are for the innocence

That is held in the palms of children

I am sorry

Every night we express our wants

To Whom It May Concern;

They always go unheard

stop sending wishes over our heads

And send them into our ears.

Maybe then we will be happy instead of content.

Suspicions of being alone

Hatred towards sameness

Live within the small spaces between our joints

Sounds of escaping air are our only hope

Yet we fear clenched fists

And demand love, as if it were a rite

Forcing ourselves together under

Cheap bed sheets and miss guided emotions

In search for what’s missing

Creating creativity

Ask me

Ask me

Ask me

We inhale the same breath,

No one notices

No one cares