Hello . . . this is Joe. Welcome to A Daily Drabble. Please add 100 words of prose or poetry as a comment on any date you want and in any order you want. Please reply on the drabbles you like. I'll moderate the comments at night, and they'll appear the next day. This is for everyone!
A station and no train. Tracks like staples. Widths like blights, breadths debrided by slights. I came for the jelly but the juicy kept its hot-hot—but the, but the, but the oxide nitrous elides. So rip each rivet. Keep on schedule so the hum keeps. Arrival at the, at the proverbial preverbal meets. Like his stalwart tarsal met tea—a tint like a streak of tahini. Thus I nor vernal peaked. Very metal clocked nor calla, nor calla fatigues. Which puts us there, where he arrives and I step aboard. Where he looks at the shoes on his feet.
ReplyDeleteArturo’s eyes blinked open. Down the tracks, the gray train he’d arrived on sat empty and cold. Looking around, he wondered where the others had gone. A few gray suitcases were scattered about, some open and the gray clothes blowing across the platform. A gray squirrel ran across a bench top and up into the rafters. Gray clouds drifted apart to reveal a small, gray sun. Raising a hand to cover his eyes, Arturo wondered what the real sunlight had looked like. He tried to remember, but for some reason couldn’t recall if it had been emerald green or purple.
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