They found god in the front closet of a suburban home in Lincoln, Nebraska. They said god was lying upside down under a bin of legos. They say a lot of things these days. The men who were called were serious. The kind in white lab coats with guns and gas masks. How do you get into something like that? Probably the military. Men who are paid to know things and be really vague when anyone asks.
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The first time I saw it, I just thought it was cat hair. Sometimes I brush my cat and tufts and tufts of fur come out of her coat. I didn’t think about the fact that I hadn’t been brushing my cat lately, but then again there were a lot of things I wasn’t thinking about. And the next few days were just like any other. Cereal for breakfast, reading the news hunched over my laptop nearly curled up in a ball.
A man wakes up in small brown house. It is his house, in so much as a house can really belong to a person. He is a man of his word. He was often quiet, but then again nobody is listening. But on this morning, it is different. He thinks about how it is different as he shaves the hairs on his face, one by one cutting them with his razor.
Author’s note: despite sharing the same name the characters of Zoe and Robin are most definitely not me. She was lucky that I even answered the phone. “Hello,” I said, still half asleep and squinting at the bright column of light pouring in through the window. “Now listen to me very carefully because it is damn hard to make a call like this,” her voice cut sharply through the background static, “You’re me, and I’m you but from a world where things go just a little bit differently.
a wlw stort story, by me!
I went for a run by the beach this morning. The ocean breeze was nice on my skin, and the early rays of the sun lit the world in pastel color. I’m not usually the type to talk to strangers, but today felt different. I saw her leaning up against the railing of the boardwalk, gazing out at the ocean. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” I said “Yes, yes it really is.” She responded, “What brings you out here?
Floating in your dreams has such a distinct feeling to it. The ground just melts below you and the sky just lifts you up. This time it feels like I have wings. The world moves in a blur below me. The endless roads and forests and towns pass by one after another. The cool wind feels amazing. I drift along. I'm with a flock of birds I think. There’s a loud sound.
It feels weird to let go. The sun came up this morning. It was so big, so red, so dim. I could feel a knot in my throat looking at it. I guess in a sense I feel relieved. I don’t have to worry about that paper anymore. I don't have to answer the question of what I want to do with my life. Maybe I wanted to answer that question?
If I look outside my window, I can see the bus stop. Normally the buses just run in a circle around campus, but today is different. Every hour the bus comes to take a crowd of students to the airport. They start showing up nearly a half hour early, tote bags and suitcases in hand, ready to go board flights and be whisked away to whatever part of the world the came here from.
I keep having this dream, over and over almost every night. It starts out with me in a hallway, and I think it’s the hallway of a school. I turn towards the wall, and I see this display or art piece. It’s a bunch of post-it notes stuck to the wall with writing on them in black ink and red sharpie lines drawn leading from one note to another. As I stare at the notes, I start to realize.