This is the final installment in a tale that begins with a first, second, and third part.
Continue reading “The Man with a Thousand Voices: A Short Story (4)”The Man with a Thousand Voices: A Short Story (4)

This is the final installment in a tale that begins with a first, second, and third part.
Continue reading “The Man with a Thousand Voices: A Short Story (4)”To my Juliet.
With a soft paw stroking my neck,
you whisper your arrival,
wide-eyed and attentive to my movements
as I slowly bat my eyes open.
You are a shape so familiar to me,
a fluffy silhouette I see out of the corner of my eye
even when I don’t see it out of the corner of my eye,
a small pointed face with those two triangular ears
that perch atop your head, antennae-like;
the tail that slaps softly side-to-side,
restless unless asleep.
My thoughts meander away, dreamlike distractions,
and as my eyes close with certainty,
you brush my cheek with your paw and
sniff my face closely with your twitching nose,
whiskers tickling my nostrils.
To Bryant
I feel bad for people
who aren’t us.
People who don’t think romantically
about the number 42,
people who don’t think “incredible”
is an incredible word.
People who’ve never had their name anagrammed
as a way of being flirted with,
people who aren’t texted “Hey”
every day at 9:45 PM,
people who don’t share a handwritten letter
on the last day of every month—
people like that,
people who aren’t us.
Our loved ones are special. They are the people who brighten our days and hold our hands when life gets rough; they are the people who love us for who we are, on our good days and bad days.
How we treat our loved ones matters. How we treat our significant other, our friends, our family, and all the other people who bring beauty and color to our lives–our co-workers, our neighbors, our online friends–matters. Often, simply loving someone is not enough; we must treat them with love, as well.
When I walk the dirty trails that wander through the woods, I am walking the muddy Pennsylvanian paths my eight-year-old feet traversed, I am walking the journey of our ancestors as they crossed land to forge this existence, and I am walking closely to the sacred earth that we will bestow to our posterity. When I walk among the trees, deep into the heart of nature, and the white noise of industrial society is blocked out by the trunks and the branches, something special happens.
For my significant other’s birthday, and because I was craving a hike day, we took a day trip to a hiking spot about three hours away from our home. Continue reading “Hiking with B”