<= 2006.08.24

2006.08.26 =>

I was sitting in the library and then I lost all respect for myself. I hate it when that happens. If it were just a potion or fruit that I could ingest daily—

Someone is playing The Shins over a loudspeaker and the paths are full of children giggling about titration, so school must be starting. I’ve been assigned 33 students and a room. What I want is time—no, what I want is a better grip on time as it spools by. Experience is slick, ungraspable. I forget it as it happens. I stare without blinking. Not awake, not asleep.

 

<= 2006.08.24

2006.08.26 =>

up (2006.08)

The Warm South
The Roof Rat Review