2010
06.08
06.08
I watch him put his clothes on. After he leaves, I feel numb. Another stranger takes off before midnight.
I feel miniscule. Shades of gray, patterns on the wallpaper.
Pale white sheets bury me in bed.
I watch the lights of passing cars float by on the walls.
The next day, I lie on the living room rug as they carry all the furniture off. It seems random, rather unpredictable. Did I live here?
The last thing they remove is the first thing I hung. It’s my empty birdcage.
I walk around the blank shell like a visitor.
Got a piece up today by Robert Vaughan ; http://amphibi.us/all/shades-of-gray/
RT @amphibius: Got a piece up today by Robert Vaughan ; http://amphibi.us/all/shades-of-gray/
Wow, this is powerful work, Robert. I’m more and more impressed. And this site is fantastic, too. Congrats!
This prose piece is like poetry- the rhythm is wonderful, and there are multiple meanings that can be read into the narrative. The tone is spare, dark and dense. Layered with richness, much like life. Wonderful work.
This is haunting and masterful.
I think this is brilliant Robert. Way to go, buddy, and keep up your great writing. I enjoy following your blog, also.
An empty birdcage? A metaphor for so many things. Sad and liberating all at once. Reminds me of a sad and trapped life that is no longer.
Great work Robert! Your writing has great emotion, it’s sad and that’s a great thing where writing’s concerned!