101 Words

We were the most innovative pair of pubescent hooligans east of the Mississippi. It was your idea to tie an oversized stuffed teddy bear to a giant makeshift crucifix in the back yard just to see the neighbor’s reaction.

The bear, with its head lolling to one side and its tongue sticking from its mouth, sat out in the rain for three days before anyone noticed. Then we were simply asked to take it down. It was very anticlimactic. We were disappointed so we set the entire creation on fire. I don’t think that’s what they meant by “take it down”.

I live in a building on the corner of Piedras shaded by a large tree, the muchachos gather beneath it to practice their lines. Their whistling, along with the hum of traffic and stifle of heat, are just a part of the air here.

There are three doormen, only one of whom I ever understand. Short, stout, middle aged they sit in plastic white chairs in the lobby listening to the radio, or stand outside leaning against the brick wall, smoking lazily waiting for the heat to subside they mark my coming and goings. Sometimes they open the elevator for me.

– Barbiecore

“I waltzed into town, a whirlwind of artifacts and petty insects, the wind of the plains grasping my straw hair. My boots clacked out the rhythm to a song even the Gods couldn’t comprehend. It was the five eternal children who came to greet me, to bear witness to the Known Wanderer. The nameless, faded tumbleweeds that were their parents hung back with eyes as empty as the desert, pleading for me not to look upon them.

The children reached out, winding my gears, and their own cogs ground. The world turned more slowly. I smiled my smile and moved on.”

– Jack Homer

Georgia always did first. She never asked; she just did. There was never any doubt about whether I would follow. Whatever it was, I would follow. Thank God she was somewhat rational. But she was also the hero. And she was only five-foot-six.

Except today. Today, she didn’t go running.

Two men, one with a gun and the other with a knife, were robbing a college-aged male. I think Georgia realized we wouldn’t win this fight. So did I. But the college student wasn’t going to win it, either.

So I went running. For the first and last time, Georgia followed.

– Nick

“What’s your name?” you ask.

There was no reason for it. None at all. Even now, I don’t know why I did it. More so, I know I would have wondered why I didn’t do it, should I have chosen not to. All I know is, I got out of that city. That state. That country. I left everything behind. I swapped out my clothes in the next town, and shredded my card. Bought a knife off the third guy I met. I bought a scoop of ice cream and left a 172 dollar tip.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I reply.

– Nick

He is just a freshman, my son. Deciding to run Cross Country, he works harder than most of the young men on the team. His first race, he only runs in the middle of the pack, but I am proud.

I tell him, keep trying, and you will slowly improve. By the time you are a senior, you may be one of the best.

Six races later, at the district meet, a five minute improvement in time. He is sixth overall, and best on his team. He leads them to a berth at regionals! That’s my son, and I am proud.

– Proud Dad

So, I turns to him and he’s lookin’ all glum, so I says “Hey, you could cheer up a l’il. We are going to fucken’ Disneyworld.” I didn’t expect him to; I bought him some Mickey Mouse ears. He knew shit, and he’s givin’ me this look, this damned look like “We can just stop the car here.” But I couldn’t. We got to the drive in front of Magic Kingdom, and the tram. I let him out, and there’s the look. He got on the tram; I never saw him again, but I see those eyes every day, pleading: “Mister…”

– The Baron