where the writers are

bored | bored

ashen-venema's picture
This autumn is drunk with colours and fruit. Red-blushed, in their own sweet time, apples have been falling with soft thuds onto the dewy lawn for weeks. Each morning they blink at me, and shout – help, pick me up, the slugs are coming. They’re good for something, but did you know...
hannah-sward's picture
6:11pm Citrus Ave. I am home. Left work early - not too early - 5:35pm. At 4:30pm I went to the gym in the basement at work, and since that's officially in the working facility, I consider that still on the clock. But now I am home and I have the whole evening before me. I am drinking a glass of...