Mary Goff's Writings
Melanie came home, stripped her uniform off and showered. Managing a restaurant had definitely been taking its toll on her mind, not to mention her soul. But it paid the bills and at least she was no longer just a waitress trying to make ends meet. After eating another “TV special” and the late night line up faded into paid commercials, she smoked a cigarette on...
He was crucified for the sins of the crows; trapped among the rows of corn— it’s not that he can’t scream, or wave his arms in protest it’s just that he finds birds grotesque. He hangs, a rag-doll black-balled by the world, and defeated by the sheer weight of bird-shit. His disillusionment grows by the day, an unbearable thrum of, “If I could eat you, I would...