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TrappedInFlesh/ May 25, 2018

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Parts (Fiction)

TrappedInFlesh/ May 2, 2018

Home from a long day at the job. NOT MY FAULT! Not at all my damn fault. I don’t make the parts. All I can do is place my order. “My car has been here for two days already. What do you mean they haven’t sent the necessary

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Wallet (Fiction)

TrappedInFlesh/ April 14, 2018

“We’ll share the soup.  You want a beer or soda?”  Their fight has lasted three days, she misses his affection. “My treat.” She reaches for her wallet. “I’ll take a beer. Is the soup super spicy?” Spicy hot gives him heartburn.  She doesn’t say anything, just orders the

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Hip-hop Vape Kids

TrappedInFlesh/ February 19, 2018

The other day on route to my job I was listening to the radio.  Power 106 where hip-hop doesn’t live.  After one the trendy songs they repeat multiple times every day a commercial aired informing listeners that vaping is dangerous and kids are doing it and that that

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Glasses

TrappedInFlesh/ February 14, 2018

New glasses.  Reading. Left eye. Everything skewed. Normal they said.  Hard to believe. Accustomed. In a week or so they said I’ll be. Clean and crisp.  Words now easy to read. A bit off. For a few days things will seem. They said. Never adjusted, now they believe. 

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Bottles (Fiction)

TrappedInFlesh/ December 5, 2017

Empty bottles litter this tiny single room apartment. An old inexpensive ‘L’ shaped desk hugs the opposite corner from the entrance.  The one window allows the sun to shine on the longest part of the desk and on an unfinished painting. When he was eighteen years old he

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Lemon (Fiction)

TrappedInFlesh/ November 23, 2017

It’s time to go work, a job he keeps out of necessity. The girls, his niece’s are gathered around a fifteen year old car that belongs to the oldest. “Hey kids” He yells in a stupid character voice – shit like that used to amuse them, but now

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Backpack Thief (Flash Fiction)

TrappedInFlesh/ August 20, 2017

Long day at work. Seconds after stepping off the first bus the light changes and the Saturday night Hollywood hordes cross paths at this intersection where rarely an “excuse me” or a “sorry” is heard. On the other side at the underground entrance, a small group blazes. So

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Music

TrappedInFlesh/ July 27, 2017

When I’m home, mostly in my tiny studio, there is always music playing. A variety of “genres” sometimes in languages I can’t understand – doesn’t matter. If my inner Self, Spirit, Soul, what ever you want to call it, if it dances I listen. Because I like my

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To the job.

TrappedInFlesh/ May 18, 2017

It’s always a drag having to leave my work to go to the job.  Looking forward to lunch break. One day no more. Wage slave NEVER a drone.