Fred Aiken Writing

Tag: friendship

October 9, 2021

Suicide Speaks

“I don’t know if I can take this anymore.”

“What?”

“Life, Tom. Life. I just don’t think I can keep going.”

“All right. That’s something.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Don’t you think this is something you should be telling, I dunno, your therapist, a doctor, hell, maybe even a cop? They seem like they might be equipped to handle this conversation.”

“You’re my best friend. Why can’t I confide in you?”

“Because I don’t care.”

“You don’t care if I kill myself?”

“Not particularly.”

The phone cut out. I checked my signal, but it, along with my hopes of connecting with Tom, the guy I met outside the arcade, or having a healthy conversation with a compatriot flittered off into the mist, never to be heard from again.

October 2, 2021

Friendship Editor

I’ve edited friends on the veranda

as I grow older in the past reeling back to

strains stranded on back porches of dilapidated houses experiencing

gentrification for the first, not the last

time, winding up to the pitch, leaning in for the hit,

collapsing to the impact of ball in hand,

waiting for skin to bruise and remove all pain

as blue makes way for purple makes way for red

makes waves in soundless echoes popping

over the fence to hide out from all,

not every,

criticism drawn in sand castles built to mimic prime real estate

in a great school district where the kids are definitely

not taking drugs to experience grammatical ecstasy from their lives

comma flight