Odd Sounds.

I rolled over; my throat burned with the sting of vomit.  “God damn.” I said out loud throwing up in a small bucket next to my couch.  I put my hand on my forehead.  “Burning up.” I said to no one, but myself. I live alone in my small Manhattan apartment; no wife, no...

Autumn Leaves.

I sat outside on my front porch waiting, for what? I still don’t know. Something tells me I never will. I recall that the world felt both warm, yet malevolent as the sky turned a blood red, and the sun faded into darkness. The touch of night kissed my skin with cool...