Jennifer approaches the woman and her child. The woman rising, the mother standing as tall as possible, but only after striking her son across the face.

Jennifer ignores the woman and bends before the boy. She smiles, places a finger upon his belly. Rising, gently squeezing the child's arm, Jennifer faces the woman.

When the woman moves to grab her son, to pull him from the shop, the child’s eyes brighten. Tears build, like bubbles upon the end of a wand, but don’t pop. Refracting the overhead light, small rainbows swirl atop this solution's arc, and Jennifer sees not so much the boy’s thoughts, but the manner by which he goes about thinking.

“Excuse me,” Jennifer says.

She lowers her eyes and smoothes the pleats of her dress. New, purchased just in time for the season, she pockets her hands within hidden seams. In pattern hundreds upon hundreds of small yellow flowers soften certain features of her countenance. But lowering her eyes? Smoothing her pleats? All of this is affect. All of this is to bring about a greater response when she stills her hands; when Jennifer raises her eyes.

Pitched so that only the woman hears, so that only the mother, this woman, will ever truly know, she says, “Just remember, and forever, that I saw what you did in here today. Okay, Mom? So that makes two of us. Me, and your little boy. There’s two of us who will never forget. You might. You'll probably rationalize this away long before your first beer. But we won’t. And so what you’ve done? Even if you forget it?”

Jennifer looks from the woman to the boy. The impression of the woman’s hand, red, and rising to welt upon the little boy’s face, just now purpling.

"It'll never be undone."

The door doesn't hit the woman on her way out. Like a punch line, it closes upon the little boy.

Real life monsters can be erased.

There are a lot of evil things in this world. Pick one and let your imagination find a way to remove it from our lives. Use as many words as it takes. No rules. I will be the judge.

I'm sorry- I couldn't resist. If there is any monster I can eradicate in the world, it's terrible grammar. Forgive me.

Entertaining, a complete joy.

Obnoxious teenagers

I won't be annoyed.

Everything is great, I'm never bored.

With no classes in which I want to ignore.

No students who make me question society.

Wait, that might have been sarcasm in all of this writing.

Come

with me

to forever,

These chains

don’t have

to bite;

Do not

beware

my intentions,

They’re

honest, kind

and right.

Come

with me

to forever,

This room

is not

a cell;

Though if

you think

too carefully,

This room

could be

your hell.

Come

with me

to forever,

I could

just be

your friend;

Come

with me

to forever,

Come

with me

’til the end.

What if I don't want to settle down?

What if I don't want to be my parents?

What if I don't want to have those responsibilities?

What if that never changes?

What If I don't want to make it work?

What if I don't want to make a family?

What if I don't want to make it last?

What if I can't stay still that long?

What if I don't want to give things up for him?

What if I don't want to have kids with him?

What if I don't want to make it him and me against the world?

What if I need my freedom?

What if I like keeping my options open?

What if I like my friends?

What if I like my independence?

What if I like changing my mind?

So what if I'm happy now?

What if I like who I am when I'm single better?

What if I like doing it myself better?

What if I can make it alone?

What if I never know?

What if I'm enough for me?

What then?

How am I supposed to tell him?

How can my love somehow not be enough to keep me with him?

How can I love him this much and leave him?

What if settling is settling?

What if it's just not who I am?

I don't think that's who I am.

But what if I'm just making it all up?

What if I'm just scared because we're so right together?

What if we're right together?

You believe that everything is fine, just as you dreamed.

Gradually, as time goes by, all is slowly revealed.

Misery creeps and embeds itself into your heart.

Back against the wall, you sadly weep.

Realizing that you have been fooled.

Searching for way of escape.

Walls closing in rapidly.

Mind racing hopelessly.

Breathing heavily.

Trapped.

Until,

Someone comes.

Dazzling prince appears.

Knighthood in shining armor.

Gallantly wielding sword and shield.

Taking you gently underneath his wing.

Carrying you away to his impenetrable fortress.

Standing guard, protecting you tirelessly day and night.

Although tribulations constantly arise, he stays by your side.

Loving you forever and for always, ever providing inextinguishable joy.

We lay in the long grasses

staring up at the clouds.

The sky lit up like cotton candy

with light blues and cozy pinks.

Our heads are next to one another,

and I can see her raise her hands to the sky.

Reaching for the clouds.

“What would it be like to fly?”

She asked me.

“Well... It’s pure freedom. The wind blowing against your face, the only thing chaining you to the ground being...” my thoughts began to drift. Towards...

She rolled onto her side, now facing me.

“So, if you could be any animal, what would it be?”

I rolled to face her.

“What’s with all these questions?” I ask

with an eyebrow raise in unison.

“I think I’d be a cat,” she continued. “I feel like I’d want to defy physics.”

“You realize that curiosity killed the cat, right?”

She chuckled her belly chuckle she only seemed to have in this

magical place.

Where we both had no responsibilities,

no fears,

no worries,

nothing to hide.

I focused back on her, who’s demeanor

was now a bit more perplexed.

“Kimmy. When will we see each other again?”

"Whenever you come back" I falter.

She sat up, turning away from me.

"We've known each other for a long time, Kimmy. But I can't be the only one travelling to see you. You're so dear to me, but I feel like I'm the only one trying. How much do I mean to you?"

Her words struck my heart,

leaving me speechless.

"And Kimmy. If I don't see you in person, there is someone waiting for me. He's not you, but he's kind. And sweet... I will give him a chance."

She still refused to look my way.

I sat up and wrapped my arms around her body,

resting my head on her upper back.

This was home. In this place.

With her.

My arms felt the wet drops

falling from her precious cheeks

and bright eyes.

All I could do was hold her tighter.

As if I would never let go.

"Do you have nothing to say?" she pleaded.

"There's nothing I can say.

There's nothing I can promise you.

All I can do is hold you now, and if I never see you again this is at least the last moment I'll remember you in. Together."

The drops on my arm multiplied drastically.

I could feel her chest heave

in and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Her body slowly

transformed into a sparkly

form of herself, then the

sparkles dissipated.

My arms were empty.

She was gone.

All that was left was for me to watch as the sun set

for the final time.

As the plug was pulled from the other side of the screen,

I sat back and felt my existence stretch

and stretch

and strech,

until my data file was erased.

I don't think 

"Maybe..."

...though

we watch 

for the split

that enters in, 

into the sound

of life's merry

spin and all

the horses

stomping round

...with you 

it's always been

wholly yes on

another kind of

sacred ground

...like for some

of us there's 

a ticket, 

an open picnic,

in the park, 

instant fiction

and simple

prayers

for creativity

answered 

in the dark

clouds

beyond some ideal

that we feel and

we hold against 

the thought

of any 

of prison

even as 

these gates 

close up and 

the rides shut

we feel it pressing

on like a hug

of a ghost, or even god

we see ourselves

in the midst above 

the certain Mundane 

that arrives,

like a clock...

and shudder off

every treat and reward

that's whipped

and spurred

to a gallop

with the sweat

of a Mustang

caught in

Carnival

The face is clear and glints in light,

Its edges lined with gold;

The perfect form is exactly round,

Yet this creature is old.

Behind the glass of glinting face

Lie ticks and marks of ink;

In spaces blank where the dust collects,

Numbers make you think.

The hands are stranger than the face,

Long and lean and dark,

Uneven, lopsided, tricky things

Appear to be wrong parts.

And not two hands but three there are,

One long, one short, one not;

And this not-hand is the intriguing part

For it is easily forgot.

The perfect circle encases the ink,

The numbers staggered round,

The three hands move unevenly

All the while making a sound.

And that not-hand is moving most,

Insistently playing its trick,

Moving time forward, not letting it stop,

It's the clock hand that goes tock-tick.