Cicada’s Swan Song
It’s a deafening sound.
The screams of passion belted out
from the bugs with the giant eyes
and wingspan of a Prius.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of August 27, 2023
Having spent much of my life being told I’m “too much,” being told that I should be more myself—more David in his natural state—is a strange pill to swallow. And I’m afraid I don’t recommend it. Then again, these are strange times, and perhaps it’s time for stranger things to happen.
By morning, he had decided he needed somewhere nobody cared about theater, someplace where the name Chekhov was more likely to be mistaken for a rifle than a playwright.