She just won her son’s happiness with a new toy. But we’re riding this bus together so I can see in the way she wears her face that her happiness is in debt. She carries grocery bags beneath her eyes—full of wants she can’t afford, but that doesn’t stop them from keeping her awake at night. The bus keeps this moment honest and brief and bumpy. But I can tell, this woman has rubbed the dull side of her last penny against some pretty mean scratch tickets while reciting Frank Sinatra lyrics hoping that this time will be different than last time, that this time will be better than last time. She teaches her son that money can’t buy happiness but he then has a lot trouble understanding the smile on his own face. I want to hug her. I want to take back every time my childhood drew that face on my mother. I want to reach across the aisle, acknowledge that this bus was built for strangers, I want to say, “Lady, I know I don’t know you but we just spent several miles of the same road together and I couldn’t help but notice our eyes did similar dances looking for the same distractions to occupy this void. Just know that if I could win you happiness, I would. And If I could carry those grocery bags for you I would, for both of us,” because I can tell we’re both going to lose sleep tonight.
It’s the little (#delicious) things. (at ink.sack)
Write Bloody 13 of 23 - Francis Sanchez- “I’m Taking This Rain Check Seriously”
Today, we’re running all the videos from the Write Bloody Publishing Conest! Check out the full playlist here, and check back in throughout the day to reblog/like your favorites (or dislike your least favorites, think of it as a slam!) to help them win!
There’s something incredibly honest about trees in winter, how they’re experts at letting things go.
Jeffrey McDaniel (via perfect)
There will come a time when a sports star comes out of the closet and no one will care. Not the media. Not the internet. Not teammates. Nobody. But that will be a different kind of indifference. An accepting indifference.
The problem is that some people are attractive.
(Source: , via cityjuggler)