Sun Is A Tank On Fire

    " When I first took over my work route, I was happy. Everything was right in the world and my life felt like a plot in a romance novel. I was in love with a girl and I even started liking myself for the first time, while learning how to heal from old wounds. I remember how I used to laugh at people when they spoke about being on cloud nine, but then I gained a glimpse at how wonderful love can be, and I liked it. I liked it very much. I liked the floaty feeling that carried me through each day. Even on the hard days, when things went wrong, I didn't care. I didn't lose my temper. I was in love and it made everything in my life feel great," Edgar said while turning slightly in his seat.      "Mm-huh, I see," the therapist replied while scribbling notes onto a pad of paper. "You mentioned 'healing from old wounds'. Would you care to elaborate more on that, Edgar?" she asked, while finishing her notes. She looked up at him with kind, carin...

     Edgar used his knife to carefully cut the tail away from the body and then tossed it over his shoulder. It slid across the tile floor and came to rest near the others. Together, the tails looked like a pile of mismatched discarded feather boas. Edgar paid them no mind, but instead remained focused on preparing the rest of the carcass for dinner. He inserted the tip of his blade into the crotch area and began pulling the knife slowly through the abdomen, splaying it in two. As he reached the neck he suddenly heard a crashing sound coming from somewhere outside. Pulling the knife out, Edgar walked over to the window, leaving a trail of blood droplets across the dining room floor behind him. He peered out, his eyes scanning the lower level of the complex for anything unusual. He noticed a large tree branch had broken beneath the weight of the snow and crashed down part of the fence beneath it. He nervously looked out past the perimeter for any signs of advancement, but ...

Edgar woke and leaned over to pull up the blanket that had been kicked down while sleeping. Judging from the chilly temperature inside the room, he could only assume it was going to be another frigid day. The sliver of morning sun pierced brightly through a horizontal rip in the pull down shade covering his bedroom window. A faint chorus of songbirds could be heard outside accompanied by the garbled, but much louder, sounds of a Spanish conversation taking place in the adjacent room. He lay there for a moment listening, as the mixture of indecipherable voices gave way to lively Latin music laced with energetic beats peppering the wall. There was no point in trying to tackle more sleep. Edgar rolled out of bed and threw on his sea green terrycloth robe and grabbed a beanie off the nightstand for his morning hair. He walked over to the closet and slipped his left foot into a flip-flop, turned and scanned the room for the other one. After chalking it up as a lost cause, he removed t...

      "What happens to love when it disguises itself as a foggy window?" Edgar asked as he squatted near the side of the pool table to gain a better view of his balls. He had a difficult shot on the 11 which would leave him nicely lined up against the far rail for a great follow-up shot, but the 15 was just sitting there, perfectly aligned with the corner, begging to be kissed in. "Inquiring eyes want to see what's on the other side, then a hand moves in to wipe away the window sweat," he lined up on the 11, took his shot, and missed before continuing, "and with a quick swipe, love becomes transparent, obvious, stares you right in the face again."        Edgar stepped away from the table and placed his cue stick in the nook where the wall met the back of his chair. He picked up his beer, took a long sip, and turned to look out across the bar just in time to see a girl with pink hair standing on a bar stool. Several people were gath...

Edgar walked around back to where the base of the building jutted out and met the concrete of the dumpster area. Here, the red bricks of the Whiskey Mart contrasted with the gray concrete and he couldn't help thinking this must be what war is like. Two opposing forces of different colors squaring off on a front, ready to do their worst to each other and then some. If life were any less curious it would be packaged neatly and shipped off in a box. He fished a cigarette from his pack, lit it and walked around to the opening that lead into the garbage depot. Inside were two large metal containers, one blue and the other red, each overflowing with material. Yet again, another internal war, this time between society's struggle whether to discard or to recycle. Apparently the wasteful side was winning, seeing all the garbage strewn about the ground. It was piling up half the height of the dumpster, and the putrid smell was beginning to overwhelm. A mouse, alarmed by Edgar's sudde...