i (i) wrote,
i
i

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from 1988

the tucson Weekly used to have this feature on the back page called Dust Devils. the idea was to write something stirring in 75 words or less. i had a couple published. here goes:

Repeat and Fade

A beginning of an end. At least it seemed it might be. Nothing specific, just a bit less light in her eyes when she saw him, a few calories missing from her embrace. The little things that once weren't important becoming unscalable walls. Discussion led to argument to silent anger; the transition smoother day by day. Whole sentences spoken but not heard. A touch never felt. The gift of a rose that never bloomed. An end.

She's Leaving Home (not my title)

Normally, his eyes would have fluttered, his body shifting easily against hers. Instead, his eyes shot open, his body stiffened and cried out into the void of her absence. A thought snaked into his mind and coiled itself around his fear. what if she had left him while he slept? Pushing his unwilling body to its feet, he stumbled downstairs calling her name. No response. He went to the back door, calling again: "Jocelyn....here kitty kitty"
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