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Short Stories

 
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Living The Dream
Her Kona has wings.  She is flying it out over town, through mackerel clouds with fishy lines that distort into dead celebrities and mythical creatures when she pedals through.  She can feel the pulse of the town, feel ten thousand heartbeats marching to the same song.  She doesn't like this song.  She lets go of her handlebars.
Her Kona is flying itself now, propelled by the prospect of change, rocked by the turbulent back-draft of hot air being spit from all sides, whispering promises of uniqueness, acceptance, individuality; 'anything goes.'  Yet she wonders why she is so different because she loves jj Kale and Van Morrison.  She hopes it is because she doesn't think this makes her any different from anyone else. 
She wishes it were 1973, so she could spin around in circles a million times and fall down breathless amid tangles of long dirty hair, and not be a 'crazy hippie chick' or 'just a small town girl' because she likes to spin around in circles a million times.   And then it occurs to her that 'crazy hippie chick' and 'small town girl' are compliments, all these people live with her in their not-so-large town.  She wonders why she ever doubted herself. 
She wakes up and her pedals touch the ground.  It is a brand new day.
By: grrrr

4/8/2006 | 186 views

1 Short Story
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