Rejection

The coldly, I thought, written letter arrived yesterday. Each piece was listed and followed by the word declined. They try to make it sound like it was just a fluke because they had so many entries that yours was just one of most of them that were rejected. It doesn't feel any better. I had been working on a new collage, maybe construction is a better word and nearly winged it across the room. I'm putting all this shit away.

Running

My father was a runner before there was running. He used to run down the road out in the country where we lived and my friends would ask me where he was running to. Sometime when he got older after retirement, he started walking. Despite all that running, walking and clean living he died at 73 in November of 2001 of a stroke.