July 28, 2010, 12:30 am
Filed under: literature, Mysteries | Tags: , ,

He had friends with names like Chiffon, or Dmitri. I have no idea where he found these people but it wasn’t in the same place he found me. I was crawling around in the Do-It-Yourself section of the local mega-sized bookstore looking for something about chicken keeping for leisure. We broke up two months later.

The rules, according to a friend, are write a short story that’s fifty-five words long. Another recovered scrap from my hard-drive.

Jarrett’s Sonnet 1
July 28, 2010, 12:23 am
Filed under: literature, Mysteries | Tags:

When sitting, oft the sitter’s eyes will glance
On nearby movement, and with little scan,
He tries his best, the sitter, to advance,
His knowledge of the virtues of a man.
A tallish, fellow, with penumbras gate,
With hair and hands and details very small.
The man in question seems almost too straight;
To bear the things the sitter seeks at all.
This sitter marks the air the passers lends,
And makes a mental note, to later think,
Whom he could see, or, Providence chagrins,
Whom he could catch, and hold, and fin’ly sink.
    For in this World there’s more than ample time,
    For lonely men, internal peeks to climb.


I found this kicking around my Documents folder just now. I remember writing it but I don’t remember when. I know where, I was in the market.