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She rummaged through the drawer, tossing aside spoons and spatulas until she found the can opener. Pulling it out, she slammed the drawer out of abject frustration. Why can’t things ever end up where they were supposed to go? The can of soup on the counter looked less and less appealing as she banged around the kitchen, angry and claustrophobic.
By Bridget Grace URL on 08.13.2015
It was my last day. The boss had called me into his office first thing in the morning. “you just aren’t the conventional staff we wanted” he had said. “I am so sorry” he had added. Well have fun conventionally cleaning toilet paper off the office walls.
By Jax URL on 08.13.2015
let go from a job, it was about time…to many days had passed waiting for the right moment…well it was decided for him that day…and it was a blessing. goodbye at last
By JG on 08.13.2015
Canned peaches. Canned sardines. Canned green beans. The only things left on the dark, dusty shelf. The storm is getting closer.
By odaniel URL on 08.13.2015
just as smiles do not
fall off the face like
pebbles off a cliff, there
one moment and
and how you can’t
package the manifestation of a
inside a metal cylinder,
I firmly reject the
By Eliza URL on 08.13.2015
one word takes away the time astray
to say the tame to trade the same
to canned unwrapped to wish unwrapped
to think to thought two too to wit
i miss the kisses the trist, but
nothing better than the twist
love on the times
trick trips to the coffee
By matt m on 08.14.2015
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.