Disturbed Stories

about 2200 words Hamlet and James Dean Died Youngby James Foley In Virginia, an hour’s drive south of D.C., there’s a huge white house—built in the 1890s out on a point on the Chesapeake. And this summer when I drove there for a Wednesday-evening literary-club meeting, a gale was churning the water in front and on both sides of the house. And somehow on that lightning-blasted and thunder-shaken night, this lit-up mansion...

I feel like a Dali paintingmy image warpedby your own imaginationImperfection of this bodydesecrated with scarscrafted by your own torturous mindTime meltingwinding back to forgotten dayswords spoken and virtual hugs we sharedMemories soon fadelike forging fire into ashwhich you silently blow awayWhat once we hadhas slowly disappearedof a friendship separated by oceans wideThe drawer within my chestwhich protected our che...