Faded Houses Green

He mourns the loss of the coming of the mill on the floss, beneath the giddy horns of a gilded dilemma. Everlasting solitude beneath the lassitude of carnival patrons on the third night of Ginger come to town.

Harlan lasted only long enough to give the wheel one more turn of the screw, but the wheel had other plans, or was it the screw? A river. The river. He walked along the river until he heard the voice of the enchantress tell him to go no farther. He went farther. He went as far as the next bend in the river until the enchantress had ceased entreating him, enchanting him. Creole. Bell peppers in the belfry dried to a crisp; although, they say he was a dead ringer for his brother.

Vertigo wanted to become the thirteenth sign of the zodiac, but withdrew its application when Ginger–or was it Harlan–came to town. Out on the town, painting the town red; although, given the state of the prison yard, they say it was really mauve. So mauve it is.

Originally published December 1, 2023