I eat. I EAT. I have steaks and pizza and burgers for weeks. I break up with my boyfriend. I get back with my boyfriend. My boyfriend finds out the truth and we really break up. He thinks we can work it out and I know we can’t. I know I can’t. I am ugly now. It will never be what it was. Whatever it was. It won’t be clean ever again.
Read MoreBook walks into the old place just ahead of me. Cigarette smoke fills the room. I grab us sodas and turn to look for Book at a table. I see him, and I see Tuck. Tuck looks at me and smiles the biggest, widest, crookedest smile I’ve ever seen. He has a flannel shirt on, blue jeans, and some work boots; looking way too good in this honkytonk outside city limits. His guitar is in it’s case leaning up against the table.
Read MoreI was drug out of the deepest darkness I have ever known by love. I thought I would always feel the sustained intensity of that loss. I thought I would wake every day and feel alone and misplaced without her. I thought I would dedicate every single day of my life to the memory of her. I thought a lot of things that aren’t true. I became callous for a time. I did not feel the pain and experiences of others were worthy. I thought, “How could you complain about that to me? Why does that even upset you?” I traveled a lot. I hustled. I worked and focused and did what needed done.
Read MoreThis piece written for Bridesmaid's Confession Event Planning Services. See more great stuff and inquire about services at their website, www.bridesmaidsconfession.com and Instagram page, @bridesmaidsconfession
Read MoreThe people with innovative ideas here are turkey-whispering hunters and guys who drive old Toyota pick-ups and girls who work on their own cars and people who take the education they are given and do the very best they can with it. Whether that is from their great grand-dad or a super cool unicorn of a teacher they had their sophomore year of high school. You better believe some of the very smartest and most worldly people I know are from deep up some hollow. Don’t fuck with me on that.
Read MoreThe dunes get bigger and bigger the closer I get. Oddly, the smell of gasoline starts to fill the air. Billboards with graphic colors show up beside the road telling me about Polaris and RZR and I start to understand, these dunes are off-road vehicle dunes. Driving into Glamis, dune buggies drive across the road and out into the dunes. They climb over the peaks as far as I can see. Serpentine tracks wind through the sand.
I pull into the gas station parking lot, people look at my sad rental car with disappointment as I walk into the dingy place. A middle-aged blonde woman is working the cash register, she is surrounded by an altar of t-shirts, cigarette cartons, and trucker hats.
Read MoreWe walk towards the fire. It is quiet. The light flickers through the trees. I see 3 people, their faces glowing orange. I don’t recognize them. They have that worn-down 28-year-old country boy look going on. Leathery skin, tight blue jeans, and hats sticking straight up in the damned air, proud.
Read MoreThis piece written for Samuel Taylor Photography. See more great stuff at his website, www.samueltaylorphoto.com and Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/samueltaylorphoto/
Read MoreThis piece written for Samuel Taylor Photography. See more great stuff at his website, www.samueltaylorphoto.com and Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/samueltaylorphoto/
Read MoreThis piece written for Samuel Taylor Photography. See more great stuff at his website, www.samueltaylorphoto.com and Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/samueltaylorphoto/
Read MoreThis piece written for Daytripper Magazine, a travel publication covering West Virginia and Virginia, as a partnership between Samuel Taylor Photography and myself.
Read MoreThis piece written for Daytripper Magazine, a travel publication covering West Virginia and Virginia, as a partnership between Samuel Taylor Photography and myself.
Read MoreThis piece written for Daytripper Magazine, a travel publication covering West Virginia and Virginia, as a partnership between Samuel Taylor Photography and myself.
Read MoreThis piece written for Samuel Taylor Photography. See more great stuff at his website, www.samueltaylorphoto.com and Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/samueltaylorphoto/
Read MoreThis piece written for Samuel Taylor Photography. See more great stuff at his website, www.samueltaylorphoto.com and Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/samueltaylorphoto/
Read MoreThis piece written for Samuel Taylor Photography. See more great stuff at his website, www.samueltaylorphoto.com and Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/samueltaylorphoto/
Read MoreThis piece written for Samuel Taylor Photography. See more great stuff at his website, www.samueltaylorphoto.com and Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/samueltaylorphoto/
Read MoreThis piece written for Samuel Taylor Photography. See more great stuff at his website, www.samueltaylorphoto.com and Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/samueltaylorphoto/
Read MoreI relinquished my rental car keys and a little bit of my freedom and found a place that sold beer. Sitting at the bar I read my book and watched the winter Olympics play on the tv. The bartender flirted with a man from the kitchen in Spanish. They both giggled.
Read MoreSam sang just like David Byrne. He made the same weird faces and did the same odd dance moves and my mom watched him and waited for him to do something great. We were all waiting for him to do something great.
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