February 2020 You came into the kitchen to make some tea and I wanted to do nothing more than hold you close but you were sick (I saw the paperwork was on the passenger seat as I rolled your window up, it was raining) and hate that then so I stood there and kept making… Continue reading Missed Messages
Author: DWallace
Today won’t come tomorrow.
2007 “I hate you,” she said with a steel-piercing gaze. He sat silently. “Everything that is you, I don’t like and I am stuck with you, lying to all who ask about how great you are and wishing I could believe it. I can’t stand it, them, us. We have nothing. We are nothing but… Continue reading Today won’t come tomorrow.
Shadowboxing Prometheus
“You gotta find someone crazy enough to let you do it.”That was the final rule Charles gave.The first was to make sure your hand was completely dry.Mr. Charles Logan was explaining how to slap the molten iron pouring from the foundry during a pour. I only know Charles as he is around a foundry. That… Continue reading Shadowboxing Prometheus
Maxim and family.
Maxim Kamara contacted me through FB some months ago. June of 2020 had a lot going on and I was all manners of energy going on and a young man from Sierra Leone came out of the digital blue. It seemed a sign to pay attention to. Maxim has since checked on me an my… Continue reading Maxim and family.
A story about a man named Mays.
Social media has provided me with the chance to meet with some of the coolest people. They are everywhere when you are right like I or you know how to look. If neither of those is you, then you may need some help. Jimmy Mays posts about his tale and the bits as it goes… Continue reading A story about a man named Mays.
The sound of trees.
She was waving her arms like she wanted to speak to me. I rolled down my window. “You hear that! The trees, they are speaking.”I could see from my vantage the dancing of and swaying of them and know well that rising and waning wrapping of wind rushing about as it pleases. She had a… Continue reading The sound of trees.
Finding the cool spot on a July day.
February 2020. I recall a fog of a moment walking. The bathroom door partway open. My step mom slumped over the toilet. She died that night, maybe right after but I know not before. They said when she fell over from there she hit her head. I don’t know. That room was nothing but… Continue reading Finding the cool spot on a July day.
transmissions
I was walking the dog the other night and the ads through the music stream reminded of transmissions from another dimension. That multi-verse timeline insanity is a spaghetti wire of chaos but it is not implausible. Is the divergence continuous or discrete? The Flip Side. 2019 Kyle called me up a few weeks back. It… Continue reading transmissions
Real Talk
Poisoned to inconsequence. Daniel Redmond Wallace. 2019 “You want a belt?” The kind old man in the passenger’s seat asked. “Naw, Im cool.” It was another day oozing cold rain. Weather that can get you cold to your deepest soul and had been filling all the pores of the world up so that the ground… Continue reading Real Talk
The idea really hadn’t crossed his mind until he saw the spoon sitting in the washroom sink one day.
It was a serving spoon, the one the cafeteria lady used to pass out generous portions to the varieties of boys and girls, called in table order through the line before her every day. She always made him a large plate, wrapped and stored aside, the paper would be soggy when he got it so… Continue reading The idea really hadn’t crossed his mind until he saw the spoon sitting in the washroom sink one day.