I turned back to Jenks. The sun was quickly disappearing and he now looked a fiery red. His hands gripped the life rail and he stared straight down to where the ship’s wake began. I, too, grabbed the rail and then slowly leaned over it to look down. Froth-covered water violently rolled and erupted into explosions of stinging, salty spray. Unseen, deep beneath the tumult, massive, unforgiving propellers were thrashing at the ocean, powering the destroyer forward.
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On days like this, mama loved to drink ocha. The green tea had a subtle fragrance that belied its bitter taste. I loved to watch her. Her movements seemed effortless, so fluid: the way she slowly prepared the tea; the way she held the cup so lightly and placed it gently against her lips. Even her sipping of the tea sounded delicate. She gave the whole ritual a sense of grace. I didn’t like the taste of the tea then, but mama would prepare me a cup anyway. I never drank it. I would just hold it between my palms and savor its warmth…
So it’s a good thing I still got this mower that I got when my ol’ man died. You know, I bet if I’da been mowin’ left that day I’da never seen that crazy sonofabitch. He yanked her hair so hard I saw rubber bands breakin’. I thought, yep, she’s gonna get her ass whipped real good for sure. She musta pissed him off right. He threw her ass in the van and the sonofabitches took off just like that. Left the goddamned bike just lyin’ there in the street, front wheel spinnin’ real slow-like. Too bad it was a girl’s bike. I don’t ride no girl’s bike…
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War On War
A Come to Jesus Meeting
The Last Distraction
Life Is Mostly Understood
Even Lonely Roads Provide No Refuge
The Sophistry of Now
Only In The Movies
The Angel In The Cracked Mirror
The Moment Before He Realized He Was Happy