The antique, rickety bench, was all that stood between my and my fate. A wood smelling piece of furniture, that housed the very people that would decide my fate. The smack, that resembled a light beam striking earth, followed the words I dreaded to hear. I was free, according to the council. But I knew I would never be free.
I think I was in my high school’s Student Council. I know I was a class officer: Senior Class Vice President. My best friend is President, and she’s good at it. She planned and organized reunions for ECHS Alumni even when she lived in Kentucky or Ohio or North Carolina. I heard our 10th was fun. I saw some pictures. I should have made phone calls, picked a caterer, a DJ. I should have brought plates or something or decorations. I graduated in a class of 83, but my faraway best friend is the only one I want to see. I left early on the 5th. Stayed at home on the 10th. Avoided gossip, rumors, lies, bad alcohol and lots of eyes. Yes, he’s still my husband. No, for the of God, there are no babies. Yes, still teaching (and it’s worth it). Yep, that’s where I live. I know it isn’t much. Yes, still chasing crazy dreams. Yes, still writing all the time.
Uninspired. Unenthusiastic. Dull. Lack of excitement. No imagination. Sixty seconds to long. This word doesn’t spark any memories, emotion, or inventive plot. It is simply a word with a timer attached, and nothing more. Maybe next time, One Word. Maybe next time.
The council voted against him.
I think we need new members in the council.
A council is a group of people who makes decisions.
The council voted against him.
I think we need new members in the council.
I search for council but couldn’t find it any where. My family isn’t good with this word and neither am I.
not sure whose hands
put me to bed
is it my mother?
my father?
death?
either way, i’ll take their
council and drift off at maximum speed
hit the dream at running
and eat up the night’s black tongue
The antique, rickety bench, was all that stood between my and my fate. A wood smelling piece of furniture, that housed the very people that would decide my fate. The smack, that resembled a light beam striking earth, followed the words I dreaded to hear. I was free, according to the council. But I knew I would never be free.
I think I was in my high school’s Student Council. I know I was a class officer: Senior Class Vice President. My best friend is President, and she’s good at it. She planned and organized reunions for ECHS Alumni even when she lived in Kentucky or Ohio or North Carolina. I heard our 10th was fun. I saw some pictures. I should have made phone calls, picked a caterer, a DJ. I should have brought plates or something or decorations. I graduated in a class of 83, but my faraway best friend is the only one I want to see. I left early on the 5th. Stayed at home on the 10th. Avoided gossip, rumors, lies, bad alcohol and lots of eyes. Yes, he’s still my husband. No, for the of God, there are no babies. Yes, still teaching (and it’s worth it). Yep, that’s where I live. I know it isn’t much. Yes, still chasing crazy dreams. Yes, still writing all the time.
Uninspired. Unenthusiastic. Dull. Lack of excitement. No imagination. Sixty seconds to long. This word doesn’t spark any memories, emotion, or inventive plot. It is simply a word with a timer attached, and nothing more. Maybe next time, One Word. Maybe next time.