“The bit about the doorbell” by Julia on L’s couch

Saturday October 19, 2019
5 minutes
Someday Is Today
Alethea Black

it’s a looming kind, this patchwork. Nobody sees

the origins because it
is built over time, from

grains of one person to
the next. it is closer

to waiting for food poisoning to strike after

consuming under cooked shrimp. they say it could

take 4-48 hours for the
symptoms to start, and

how do you go on living
casually knowing it’s on

the way? the driver who sees
the car approaching from the

rear view mirror is the one
who gets whiplash from

bracing for the crash. why suffer twice, but it’s too

late, the sick is coming.
it is the doorbell ringing

when everyone is tucked in,
far away from expecting.

“300 pages” by Sasha on her bed

Wednesday January 8, 2014
5 minutes
from the cover of an old notebook

When he wears those red pants I want to die. In a good way. I want to melt into the floor so that he can mop me up. With his red pants. Which means, he will have to remove them. Shiiiiiit. And then. Then. Then I will see his underwear. His boxer shorts that his mother probably got him for Christmas when he still went back home. They’re navy blue with small bunnies. From far away it looks like they’re horses. But they’re not. Bunnies. When he’s mopping me up, the puddle of a soul and a Joni Mitchell album, the doorbell will ring and he’ll laugh because he got caught with his pants down. Again.