Sweven

The Test
Rows of empty desks tell it is too early. Will other souls soon sit? No. NO! Damn. It is test day. Sit and start to study. Teacher arrives, lays pencil, pen, voice recorder, and book on every desk. He asks if I am ready. "Of course". A smile and lie. When he turns, I slip into the student stream outside.

Clouds & Saint
Smooth trails make boring tales. A fisherman snags our lead by using praiseful bait. Frank follows despite our protest. Clouds are pillars, steeples, roofs, pointing to earth. "The weather today," someone says, "is top heavy." It makes sense. Watch strange floating formations while waiting for the return of our saint.

Demons
He is five. His speech is glass shards grinding, unending. I first suggest, then demand, then beg for silence. He hisses. Patience is snipped. Slap the little mouth to match each little hiss. He is unfazed. Hope someone will see and be a shield or snatch the little demon away. How did we end up like this?

Bit: Standing firm, with a sense of urgency, in driveway of my grandmother's home