Pandora Moon

It isn't always wise to drink a bottle of Crown alone.
There is no one to tell you when to stop.
Believe me.
I remember being blazing drunk on a beach at midnight.
Or maybe I dreamt it.
Anyways
I remember falling backwards onto the shore,
my head pillowing into the blue sand.
Staring blearily through my weary slits, I saw something.
Was it an eye staring back at me?
It seemed to blink rhythmically as it flittered between clouds.
It couldn't be.
Was it a gemstone? I've never seen a dimond with this much clarity.
Could it have been a tear? Was someone nearby crying?
Did I break someone's heart?
I didn't hear any sobbing.
The last thing I remember was the icy lapping of the tide against my toes.
Looking up, it was just the moon.


Tear at a Salmon

The elevator doors slide open with a shudder.
I check the shine of my shoes.
Seeing myself, I smile and step within.
A hearty ding echoes, and the doors slide shut.
I depress the button for floor fifteen.
While straightening my tie, I notice
a bear sitting in the corner.
He is preoccupied, tearing at a salmon clenched in his jowls.
I didn't know a bear worked in this building.
The elevator stops on the sixth floor; the doors screech open.
I can smell pine.
The bear gives me a little nod and exits, half-eaten salmon in tow.
I continue on to floor fifteen
and to the din of fax machines and unsatisfied managers.
Before the doors can open, I quickly
press the button for the sixth floor.
The lighted six signals a smile from me as the elevator descends.
Who knows, I might enjoy salmon.

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