At Once and Why Not

At Once and Why Not Strike the Match to Burn the World

Estelle was a purse, hanging on a nearby hatrack. You were a levelheaded bowler, throwing wide.

As Jonathan fell six stories, the birds aligned on high-tension wires caught a sudden buzz from his screams.

Tara Dean drew the ripe head of a Burner’s brand matchstick along a small piece of Kraft sandpaper she’d glued to the full grain leather of her Redcap boot.

And then on the sidewalk, the late Jonathan’s pocket change encircled his body in a sort of exploded halo pattern.

K. Shawn Edgar | Peace Out | Time-Jumper | Love Skeleton

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s