Deus Ex Machina: My Afterlife in Art_With the Best of Economic Intentions._On the edge_The Size of t
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Deus Ex Machina: My Afterlife in Art
I was enjoying my usual nightmare until I realized that I was the nightmare. I had become someone else’s nightmare. Iwww.onedoor.cct's the default actor's nightmare: I’m standing offstage in the wings. The play has already started. Lights rise to a blinding intensity, and an actor I don’t recognize anymore allows the first lines to fall from his or her androgynous mouth into a lapel mic. The wall-mounted speakers expectorate that line into the seat-planted audience, composed mainly of the actors’ obliging relatives and thoughts-and-prayers-level friends, most of whom have decided that they won’t “get it”...
With the Best of Economic Intentions.
Reedsy hasn’t deemed it necessary to give us a ‘Satire’ category yet. I guess satire mainly appeals to the disillusioned that have had the scales fall from their eyes to rain down to their feet like Autumn leaves. This little effort below is crass and uncouth, and I had fun writing it. ************************************************************I think I should be able to put one over this prick. He’s not a prick really, - he’s my friend. He says he is a businessman, yet spends half his time coaching kids. He must have some ulterior motive and when I find out what it is, it’s 'curtains,' not ...
On the edge
“Please promise me that this will stay between us?” he asks with a worried look in his eyes. I know that this is beyond me. He looks scared. Helpless and confused. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into and now he might have to pay the price. He should have been more cautious and maybe thought things through before getting himself involved. Desperate times have a way of making people do things they might regret later. “Okay. I promise.” I manage to say so that he stops looking so vulnerable. He heaves a sigh of relief as he pulls me in, hugging me like he might lose me. He kisses the...
The Size of the Dog
The 800-metre race is possibly the most intense competition in track and field. Part sprint, part endurance race, this distance taxes the body, bone, lungs, and the will every step of the way. This is really true in the last 400 metre lap when you body is running on empty, and especially in the last 200 metre sprint to the tape when you often have nothing left but the will to win. I had trained for track virtually my entire school career, and now as a college senior, I was on the verge of being selected for the Canadian National Olympic Track Team. I needed just one more win at regional level ...