At a desk in an office in a tower toils an analyst: Penny. The work trudges, the money stretches thin, and her local liquor-store profits. But her coworkers need her, and that is enough. On a bench in a park in downtown sings a busker: Abi. The days meld, the guitar-case begs, and the bartenders do not know him; cirrhosis killed Dad. But sometimes people smile at him, and that is enough. In a room in a house in a suburb strives a mother: Carrie. The children tumult, the bills pile, and the husband smells of whiskey. But Tessa has a new friend at school, and that is enough. At a lab in a facility in a desert concocts a chemist: Dolly. The deadlines loom, the yields disappoint, and the war does not end. But the men across the sea are evil, and that is enough. Atop a railing on a bridge over a bay deliberates a victim: Ernie. The vertigo heightens, the instincts grapple, and the conviction builds. But a stranger tells him they care — and somehow, that is enough. In a hut in a village in poverty wastes a child: Nellie. The stomach demands, the fever consumes, and the medicine costs a month’s wages. But thankfully her dolls cannot get sick like her, and that is enough. For a woman from memory of better times yearns a lover: Danny. The songs remind, the perfume lingers, and the brain limerates. But the ache fades, slowly, and that is enough. At an end of a life fully lived rests an architect: Suki. The breath labors, the family gathers, and the hands shake too much to draft plans anymore. But she believes in heaven, and that is enough. For a moment while star-watching on a mountain panics a nihilist: Amity. The sky engulfs, the dissociation threatens, and the ego stutters. But her girlfriend loves her, so she forgets the void — and that is enough. With a rifle in a fervor on the battlefield fights a soldier: Archie. The shells detonate, the bullets pierce, and the youth litter the ground with their corpses. But the flag inspires, and that is enough. From a part of her mind full of fear writes a poet: Zoey. The meter confounds, the words seize up, and the ending escapes her.
Eleven people
Eleven people
Eleven people
At a desk in an office in a tower toils an analyst: Penny. The work trudges, the money stretches thin, and her local liquor-store profits. But her coworkers need her, and that is enough. On a bench in a park in downtown sings a busker: Abi. The days meld, the guitar-case begs, and the bartenders do not know him; cirrhosis killed Dad. But sometimes people smile at him, and that is enough. In a room in a house in a suburb strives a mother: Carrie. The children tumult, the bills pile, and the husband smells of whiskey. But Tessa has a new friend at school, and that is enough. At a lab in a facility in a desert concocts a chemist: Dolly. The deadlines loom, the yields disappoint, and the war does not end. But the men across the sea are evil, and that is enough. Atop a railing on a bridge over a bay deliberates a victim: Ernie. The vertigo heightens, the instincts grapple, and the conviction builds. But a stranger tells him they care — and somehow, that is enough. In a hut in a village in poverty wastes a child: Nellie. The stomach demands, the fever consumes, and the medicine costs a month’s wages. But thankfully her dolls cannot get sick like her, and that is enough. For a woman from memory of better times yearns a lover: Danny. The songs remind, the perfume lingers, and the brain limerates. But the ache fades, slowly, and that is enough. At an end of a life fully lived rests an architect: Suki. The breath labors, the family gathers, and the hands shake too much to draft plans anymore. But she believes in heaven, and that is enough. For a moment while star-watching on a mountain panics a nihilist: Amity. The sky engulfs, the dissociation threatens, and the ego stutters. But her girlfriend loves her, so she forgets the void — and that is enough. With a rifle in a fervor on the battlefield fights a soldier: Archie. The shells detonate, the bullets pierce, and the youth litter the ground with their corpses. But the flag inspires, and that is enough. From a part of her mind full of fear writes a poet: Zoey. The meter confounds, the words seize up, and the ending escapes her.