The smoke would sting your eyes and was constantly veiling everything. It would permeate your clothing. He walked through it and it was like walking through an eternal sheet hanging on a clothesline in the summer. Fifty years old and still going to these places. He was getting to old for this, he thought as … More Fate
His little legs are too small for the chair that they put him in. He is a good boy and he lays his hands in his lap. His world of playing probably was never like mine, like yours. He is young enough to know only the sounds of war and fear. Today they came to … More Aleppo Boy
There is a room that exists. It is called the quietest room in the universe. It is so quiet that one can hear their organs inside their own body. The longest a person has been able to stay in this room is forty five minutes. The silence maddens a person. It is a lonely, decent … More A Lonely Decent Place
The geese are daring to stay on the beach for a little longer. They seem to stop here on this island for one more party before they fly away home. Don’t cringe, the winter will wait just a little longer. The bay is a shore of sand bordering the wildland. There are three giant, gull … More The Island
It’s six thirty in the morning. The birds have just started calling. They’re different in the tropics than anywhere else. They are obnoxious, like a fat woman in the store complaining about the price of chicken. But they fit, for some reason, and he finds their noise comforting. The sun isn’t up yet and it’s … More Ahulani
As we drive down the road to our next destination she stares out the window. The sun shines down on her hair and makes it glow. It’s normally brown, but when she’s in the sun for very long it highlights. The sun uses her as a tapestry to paint its own beauty. She becomes a … More A Tapestry, Painted
It was sunset when I heard the gunshot, a loud crack that caused my ears to ring. Don McLean sang softly about the day the music died. I was sitting outside in my chair reading a book. It was a beautiful evening. I flinched then turned quickly in my lawn chair causing its leg to … More The Day the Music Died
A homage to Lieutenant Henry and Miss Barkley, but mostly to you. It’s fall. She said that to me while the leaves fell onto our cars. The maple ones were beautiful red, orange and yellow. Everything else just was. “It’s cold here.” “It’s always cold here.” She didn’t say much and I held her hand … More Fall
This is a short blurb I wrote a few days after the infamous Paris Attacks in November of 2015. Anna and I were in Ireland when it happened. It was a terrible day. We visited Paris about a week after the attacks. It is a lovely city. German bombs from both wars couldn’t destroy Paris, … More La Marseillaise
There’s a scar in Ireland. It’s short, tiny, but very deep, and barely healing. The people use it to segregate themselves. British supporting “Unionists” on one side, Ireland Republic supporting “Nationalists” on the other. In all honesty, there are hundreds of these scars; they cut in and out of neighborhoods. Some have nothing but tall … More A Scar Called Peace
Storied By Josh 