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More from ~ehmaysink

shylyshyly
we wake across the city
smiling brightly at the boldness of the sun
as it disregards our privacy and
unlocks all the doors

quickly
we throw aside the sheets
dancing at the coldness of the floorboards
whispering a greeting to
the world that waits beyond

sweetly
we step out of our doorways
lowering our gazes to a vision of our feet
pretending to be strangers in
the cosmos that we share
burning after more. The Nevada sky was darkening, and we drove on, headed for California. Earbuds on, I watched the clouds and the stars while Jon Foreman sang:

“I want to wake up kicking and screaming/I want to wake up kicking and screaming/I want to know that my heart's still beating.”

And I thought, I’ve been here before…

---

When everything is said and done and I am six feet under, I think a particularly discerning person would be able to trace many of the great, quiet miracles of my life to moments like that one. Everyone has the off-beat places where they encounter God; mine is looking at the stars, usually from the window of a
the target chronicles:overflow
I clean the restrooms at work at least three times a week.

A mark of superiority to our store is that we check the bathrooms every single hour. Paper towels are picked up, trash cans are emptied, and empty toilet paper dispensers are mercifully refilled. And once a day, one of the cashiers gets sent in to do a thorough cleaning on the entire restroom. That cashier is usually me.

So, as I said, I clean the restrooms at work about three times a week.

Most people turn up their noses at the thought of cleaning a public restroom; I suppose cleaning up a facility scores of women and children have used is not very appealing. But I actually don
for the king.Blood and sweat flowed on the field. Lightning flashed in the sunlight reflecting off a thousand swords. The enemy numbered many and fought hard. They did not easily fall.

Looking at the bodies strewn across the ground, he could not tell which side had lost more. One pile told of their victory; another spoke defeat. What mattered was what the story would be when the battle was done.

They had been fighting for hours, he knew. The brave and young on the enemy’s front lines were long dead now. These were the powerful they were fighting, the irreplaceable of the enemy’s kingdom. Each death was a gash across their chest.

He spun and d

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August 13, 2009
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NIKON CORPORATION
NIKON D40
1/4000 second
F/5.6
50 mm
800
Jul 26, 2009, 7:09:02 PM
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