He suggests my purchase is a metaphor. His cracked smile reveals years of tobaccoed abuse, and for some reason I find this magnetic. I ask what he means, and he points to the cover. I shake my head. It’s only a book, I assure him, just pages. They should add up to something, he says, hold weight. I pay with cash. He hands me the paperback, and I nod. He is right, about the weight.
cheerupnerds liked this
xmarksthefuckingspot liked this
neworleansnightmare liked this
fwriction posted this
Two poems of mine are up at The Fiddleback! Go...
“The tennis club was too far for Hank to walk, but the subway was close. He needed to visit the...
Howie Rose calls Johan Santana’s no-hitter
The magic of the age we live in: I’m sitting around on a Friday afternoon, ...
From our seats tonight; our annual Cards vs Mets game ended up being a pretty...
The poem I’m reading every day this month is by Nick Flynn:
Cartoon Physics, part...
Not sure how it could happen, but this needs to be the cover of either my novella (Memorial...
“It happens to many teenagers—that moment when you feel full of resentment or distrust for those...
Lucille Fitch, despite a slim frame and a well-bred...
Editor
fwriction
fwriction
Subscribe via RSS
Follow on Tumblr
Mobile version
Random post