Nov 9, 2009
impersonal anecdote
He lies about the contents of his pockets but because of his haircut, no one believes him anyway.
He strips in the busy cafeteria. No one notices.
He taps his forehead against the sneeze guard. The other diners continue their conversations.
For twenty minutes he holds his face against the glass but can’t get the scanner to work.
His plan to wash the laundry is simple but impossible.
Though he never admits it, his days in the desert are a fantasy.
He feels compelled to stare back at the praying mantis.
He blames his sleeplessness on television. The television remains on.
Recent Comments