Out of the frying pan
My bread comes from hauling a man-sized bag around the city and picking out recyclables from waste bins along the Turkish-Syrian border. Each night I drag it behind me on shopping cart wheels, as to avoid the sun. This is also when most of the competition sleeps. I hope to one day get an electic bike to do this faster. I know some may pity me, but I’m one of the lucky whose family is still together. Mashallah.
Life in my homeland was nice. So they tell me. I often wonder if my family’s old home is still intact. My earliest memories were of panic, my mother worrying about what we’d eat, and so on. This continued as we went from one box to the next. I’m talking about those two-to-three story cement boxes many still call homes in the Middle East.
I’ve been told droughts ruined our soil, if it’s even still ours. Then, insurrection took what was left. Now we live on the scraps of the world, and our welcome in the only land I’ve known, has worn thin. There’s plenty of work if you’re willing to sweat, and not get much in return. I could maybe become a builder in this hell, but I dream of getting that bike to get through trash faster. At least there is wind on a bike.
Hear me out
A toast to my best buds!
You bring me great joy despite my rough treatment of you and you don't care about the fact that I'll likely break you in a month or two. I respect you both for that. I do want to apologize even though you're not capable of hearing me. I also want to say thank you. I know I stick you in my stinky ears for hours at a time, which after a long day, I'm sure is not a pleasant experience. But without you, my world would be silent. To my only partners in crime. To my only pair of earbuds. Until I have to ship you off to replace you, I'll treasure our time together. Because, let's face it, I mainly bought you for the warranty. Salute!
I got a bad vibe trying to do this.
Love at first sight
It was love from the get go. He looked at me with his caring eyes. And I was hooked.
He actually ran to me with all his energy and I embraced him. His brown hair was so soft as I held him to my body.
There was licking. A lot of licking. And wiggling.
My beautiful puppy was clearly ADHD, but I loved him anyway.
Teetering on the Precipice
And I fell. Well that’s nice. So this is how it ends. I really can’t believe it. Maybe it I should curl into a ball so maybe I can survive the landing. But I am so high up. I read somewhere if you hold plane debris you can glide down, but I didn’t fall off a plane. What did it say about landing on feet or flat? I just remember reading it and thinking I really wouldn’t need that advice. Stupid past self. Ok, so if I go head first it’ll at least be over quickly and I won’t die in pain if I somehow land barely alive. But if I land barely alive, maybe I’ll survive. Ok, so perhaps I’ll try to go with my instinct and just scream a bunch, flap my hands, and flat. No, the ball. I’ll curl into a ball. Ah screw it. Flap like a bird and scream will do.
I miss you not
“I miss you” is something I never said.
Even when someone says it to me,
I never respond with the socially expected.
But maybe I should at least say it.
“I miss you, too.”
His first words
The earliest memory I have of my father was when I was three. I’d eagerly gone to see him in his model train room that day. When I entered he sternly shouted “get the fuck out.” Did my mind subconciously make this up? Real or fake, I still struggle to figure out which is worse.
Strike: To hit.
Bottom of the 11th. Most fans had left. A batter was up, hungry to hit a single, a double, anything at all. The preasure was set with two outs and a runner on third. Strike. He was out.
First day on the job
"You won't get your wings until your first kill," said Craig. The trainee squeezed the wood-grained handle and staring at the man-sized slab of meat before him. He looked for a point of entry.
"I-I-I don't know. I lied on my application?" Stevo knew he was toast.