tragicoptimist

– Hey, watch the ear, wudj’ya ? Dan’s deep whisper broke the dark silence under the canopy. The rain had stopped but bits of moonbeams refracted off the damp bark of trees. Kat’s boots were wet and smelled of earth. She wobbled on his shoulders as the hammer struck sending off sharp clinks into the forest night.
– ‘F you’d hold still I could get this damn thing in. She grunted and huffed swinging the single-jack hard with her right arm, her left braced against the trunk. – Why’m I up here on your shoulders again ?
– I told you, the Freddies have stared using metal-detectors. We gotta get the spikes in as high as possible. He spit and wiped mud from his beard, holding her boot under his arm. Three more clanks rang out before Kat’s red-light headlamp looked down to grab a chunk of bark from her pocket. She reached up, patted the piece in place and exhaled. The early spring air condensed her breath.
– Ok, this one’s done. » Read more «

There were four people in the van but no one was speaking. The dirt road below tumbled as it travelled slowly along, shaded by thick pine trees to one side and low, dry brush to the other. Only Jenny could see the bay and the San Juan Islands floating somewhere between the water and the morning mist dispersing. The others were in the back where all the windows were covered. No one was speaking but the sound of the brown van clunking on the uneven dirt road filled the empty silence.
Before, as they had turned off onto a secondary gravel road, the conversation was lively and jovial. » Read more «

white silence snow. cold, the smell of gasoline. clean colorado air near there. the plastic bags have stayed, remain undetected. she sleeping below. huddled in the truck. he solitary beard above. breathe hard softer to night. night to light. tonight to fight with flame.
» Read more «