Monthly Archives: October 2014

Woody’s Machine

Heavy cardboard, lacquered and reinforced with canvas, the guitar case felt bumpy when he dragged his fingers slowly across its surface. Each bump a variation, a distinction among the whole. Sharper sensed when his finger tips were held severely as daggers, pressing, warping the case.

He relaxed his hand, eased the pressure, dragged his hand quickly back across the surface. The texture changed, smooth and placid. Firm and yet serene. Continue reading Woody’s Machine



Everything had fallen apart for Sergo. Bloody Sunday felt like yesterday to him. He shook his head. Four years had passed, and what had been accomplished? His dreams of building his factory drifted away like gun smoke.

Nothing was left, but the endless bickering. He was now certain that the party existed merely for its own division into countless factions. At some point, each of them would be arguing with themselves, each man forming and joining several of his own imaginary revolutionary factions. It was hopeless, madness. Marx talked of people coming together, not taking turns stabbing each other in the back. Continue reading Kirillov