Lonely Shoes
In my prime, I was a nurse at that hospital on Main Street. The shifts were crazy long, but we got decent breaks.
While I worked there, a rumor went around that nurses stole supplies—not me though. The only thing I ever brought home from the hospital was a stranger’s pair of shoes that I found alone on the roof.
From that point on, I always took my breaks in that roof. I never want to see another pair of lonely shoes.
Now, I keep them above my fireplace. I heard Heaven’s cold. I hope this helps keep them warm.
The Uber driver.
The guy jumps into my car and says he doesn’t know the address but can direct me. I instantly dislike him. Who doesn’t know the address to their destination ?
I try to be cordial, so I start friendly conversation.
Whilst texting on his phone, he tells me about girls he’s seeing and some new girl he’s secretly hooking up with unbeknownst to her boyfriend.
I’m relieved when we finally arrive because the more he talks the more I want to punch him. But that’s when I realise with a sudden shock, that we’ve pulled up outside my girlfriend’s house.
right or wrong the ending is still the same
Maybe you were right, and we're not good for each other. We're just two messed up people, pretending we're fine, when really we're falling to pieces. We couldn't save each other. Our hearts would have been broken in the end.
But maybe you were wrong, and we were good for each other. Right for each other. We understand each other because we're both so messed up. I didn't need you to save me; I just wanted you to be there for me, no matter what. Maybe both our hearts would have survived.
In the end, only my heart was broken.
Hidden Strength
He told his story with not even a modicum of emotion. Life had worn him down until he was numb. This support group was just the same as any other. It won’t make one little bit of difference, but yet something tells him he needs to be there. His eyes seemed to drift off as he once again outlined the low points of his illness. The room was silent as he spoke. However, one young man in the back paid close attention finding relief in a story he could relate to. The speaker did not realize his power and influence.
the corner of my eye
I used to love road trips. The thrumming car always set excitement pumping through my veins, and my face was glued to the window for hours on end.
I'd watch the desert streak by in blurs of brown and beige, the cacti filtered pale green like specs of morse code only I could read. An imagination freed, I'd see the colors bleeding from the sky, shaping wings that barely kept pace with my ride.
But that was before it ruined my drive. That black spot hanging off the 45. It startled me from my daydreams. And it had no eyes.
Narrative Milopus Narrative
The awesome ninja leapt into action as he seen a crime being committed. The awesome ninja is a ninja police who loves doing his job most of the time. The baddies run from the awesome ninja. 'No they got away' said the awesome ninja.
The awesome ninja headed back to the police station annoyed that the baddies got away again, he feels so ashamed of himself. The other police say 'Milopus it's OK, we've had people that we've needed to catch and it took about a year so don't stress.' Milopus is the spy ninja.
Milopus finally caught the baddies!!!
Me, Me, Me
Every tick of the clock is eternal. How long before I hear from the doctor the prognosis? How long do I have to live?
Stop!
No one said anything about dying. You don’t even know if you have cancer. For all you know it could just be a swollen prostate. Every man has one past their forties. The doctor was just letting you know the possibilities. He said he would know more after the analysis.
Blah, blah, blah! Who cares about your stupid grandchildren let the doctor go so that he can move on to the rest of us!
″--Smith?”
Fired
Wandering down the street, flipping people off, Giovanni neared her house. Her dress hung askew off of her shoulder and one of her shoes had fallen off on the train. She bit her lip and felt for her keys. She knew what was waiting for her inside. Her mother would be sitting at that table, waiting, hopefully without the lit cigarette precariously dangling from her lips. Her sister and daughter would be asleep in the full mattress that they barely could afford. It would be the last night they had a bed. Tomorrow, they have to would move into shelter.