On Monday I Woke Up as a Dog

On Monday I Woke Up as a Dog On Monday I woke up as a dog—a sloppy, tangle-furred St. Bernard who had grown up on the streets. As the sun peeked between the brownstone houses that lined the east side of the street, I set out to discover breakfast. A few people called out to…

The Prisoner

The Prisoner As the sun heads up to cross the horizon my eyes bore into its burning glow. It peeks through the buildings and washes down the threatening glimmer of the sky that keeps me up at night. As I stare through the window the prickling sting in my eyes grows sharper. Time stretches, drawn-out…