Giant Steps by Neil Jefferies
“I met him at a gas station. He was pumping air into the tires on his Pontiac Sunfire and I was vacuuming the inside of my old Ford van.” – excerpt from Giant Steps, fiction by Neil Jefferies #TheMetaworker #ForgeFriday
Tag: loneliness
“Department for Adjusting to Tragic Circumstances” by Max Wheeler
“If my days were like the calcified chambers of a nautilus cell, then my work was the living meat they had arisen to protect. The most human part of me.” @mxwheels #MetaworkerMonday #TheMetaworker
Thirst by Chris Cooper
“The blinding light from the Frigidaire beams, a humming blaze fluorescing Lacey’s face as she stands, staring into the refrigerator glow with a vacant gaze.” @coopd88 art by @curiouscerid #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
Desquamation by Frank Njugi
“At the height of my loneliness, I examine ways to escape my skin.” #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“Powerless” by Storm Lomax
“My little brother had shown early signs, spitting up fire with his baby food. My parents were
covered in small burns for the first few years but I’d never seen them so happy.”
#TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“Pink Sneakers” by Maggie Nerz Iribarne
The woman passes every day with her pink sneakers and floral running pants and cute son in a navy uniform. The son talks a blue …
“Waiting” by Christine Webster-Hansen
Eyes linger, unchanged photos thickened with dust,body-locked, estranged face gazing at the mirror,clutching at the mind, recalling memories dimly-flung,cycling again through sitcom and rerun.Bras holding …
“Ode to a Speck” by Thomas Piekarski
Out of respect I acknowledge you’re a speck on a papered wall in the midst of a tornado. You’re expected to show your worth, follow …
“Field Trip” by John Grey
You wake up on the fourth floor to the garbled coo of some window-shopping pigeons, dress quickly, pick at breakfast, clamber down the dark stairwell …
“some other nights” by Mallika Bhaumik
Nights are essays in loneliness words scrawled in the darknone to be retrieved, I stretch on the bed; disheveled like my hair,twinning with the night.My …
“Forgotten Man” by Ann Christine Tabaka
Dust motes dance on sunlight streaming through a dingy window. Rusty mailbox, empty, always empty. Cadaverous cobwebs mocking back at him from a peeling wall. …