gray and thick walls

Reflecting for a moment upon the beauty buried beyond recognition deep within the mockery of reality presented by a puddle.


This is Tyla's truck. She continually writes her name in the dirt on the back of this truck until it disappears then she writes it again. This has been going on ever since she started walking to school this way, four years ago.


Sweeping over and across the shoulder of the mountain the thick and relentless snow leaves a white wake in its passing.


Solid gray wet denies the expression of colour to all but the freshest of objects softly landed and about to be overcome.


The digger outside the window here, very strange to have only a thin piece of glass separating that huge monster claw and me.