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College ImpressionsAutumn arrived early this year,
suddenly—within the matter of three minutes—
a sucker punch
that couldn't afford to last.
Summer's efflorescence still bloomed
on the first day of classes
as the white magnolias filled the quad
and the denizens of the red bricked buildings
returned to their labors.
too many to quantify:
in the bustling pastel swaths of students
and the cool white dimness of the lecture hall,
hours of freedom
after the endless summers
of lethargy and monochrome
that fade with the last remnants of childhood...
curled midst the neon chairs and cushions
carpeting the floor.
3 AM board games,
the plastic rainbow of pieces
blurring through my exhaustion,
shuffling weary home
before dawn breaks pale on the horizon
past the last of the party rabble
slurring profanities that echo up the stairwell
chasing me to bed.
Black and gold banners
snap in the chill air<em>
ImpossibilityWe meet before breakfast every morning
just to get my quota out of the way.
She drinks steaming coffee without scalding her tongue,
while I blink the sleep from my eyes, sipping slowly.
Her scent hangs heavy in the air with the perfume
of sunbeams and birdsong
and the success of a thousand hopeless dreams, and
I don't know the colors
of the dress she wears, but I'm told
by the butterflies.
Our conversations are staid and brilliant
and can only be recalled
Her favorite activity
is herding cats,
but perhaps next week
it will be milking rattlesnakes;
Hers is the realm beyond paradox,
where nothing begins
before its own conclusion, and mirrors
only work in the dark.
We converse in our minds
about the state of the anarchy
as I pour another mug
and she thanks me through indifference.
She whispers pi
as she sits, idly tracing a straight line
WaitingThe storm arrived suddenly during the night as the wind howled in from the ocean, whipping the waves and sending them crashing in fountains of foam against the pair of high rock columns that rose from the churning seas by the shoreline. In the small cottage near the waterfront, the shutters rattled in the wind and the man in the cottage’s lone bed snapped awake. He lay still and silent for a few moments, identifying the cause of the noise, then he was up and dashing for the door, fully clothed, pausing only to seize the Sig Sauer which lay within easy reach on the bedside table and a jacket from the peg beside the door.
Outside, the rain beat sideways, driving against the man’s skin with the strength of the breaking waves below. The wind plastered his drenched hair against his face, and he shook his head violently to clear the wet strands from his eyes, flinging a cloud of black droplets that were lost in the surrounding deluge. He sprinted along the shoreline toward the to
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