There’s a Crackhead at My Window

I don’t mean there’s a crackhead outside that I can see through the window. I mean there’s a crackhead pressed against my office window. He’s up on the ledge, a few feet above the bushes, his face pressed flat against the windowpane, one eye staring down at me, the other wandering. I hear him talking, […]

Writing His Life Away

He doesn’t really care any more. Was a time all he thought about was writing. Prone to discipline he’d start his day sitting at the computer, every morning like clockwork, until he’d written a thousand words. These days it’s enough he gets out of bed. “Shouldn’t I be feeling guilty?” he asks himself and then […]

The Demise of Horticulture

My roommate’s girlfriend gave me some sort of potted palm plant for my birthday/house warming gift. It’s sitting dejected in the still somewhat empty living room, a sickly yellow slowly replacing the vibrant green on its remaining leaves, a pile of dead brown ones accumulating on the rug below. I noticed it yesterday on my […]