Dec 03


Hello! I've been a bit absent again, so I wanted to share some of my work outside of YWP. I'm currently in a creative writing workshop class at CVU, which I highly reccommend to any writerly CVU students! It's an experimental class, but so far it's been going great, and will hopefully be offered for many years to come. This post and perhaps a few more to come were created for/during this class. 


“Why were you at the dock at 11 o’ last night?” the interrogator leaned towards me, piercing me like a pine plank with those morn’-caught salmon eyes.

“I’m a fisherman.”

“Your boat was long in.”

I snorted slightly. If that was writt’n in verse, I wouldn’t ‘ve been on that dam dock. “I was gettin’ my boots.”

“Why would you need your boots at that hour of night?”

Cause some of us work the grime, instead of sitting in a polish’d office shinin’ bright lights in the eyes ‘o folk. “We were muckin’ the stalls early next mornin’.”

“The next day was a Sunday. Do you usually spend The Holy Day on chores?”

If it means we have eur's to spend on food. “Needed doin’. Carin’ for the lord’s beasts is holy, seems to me.“

He opens his mouth like one ‘o those screechin’ gulls, ‘bout to loftily talk me down, no doubt, then closes it again.

Not worth the trouble, eh? Welp, that’s what I’m goin’ for.

He gathers himself and leans ‘is ‘igh-’eld chin to my level. “Did you see anything while you were retrieving"

“No sir, nothing at all.”

“Well then, Mr….?”


"...right. You are excused from questioning.”

I rise, bones creakin’ like salty timbers. “Afternoon, sir. “

“Good afternoon, Mr. Almen.”

I turn to leave, then stop suddenly. “ ‘Fore I go, I have a tip for you, sir.”

“A tip?” He leans forward eagerly, like a dog smellin’ meat.

“Yes sir, ya know, to help.”


“Try seabathing.” That’s it, face calm as a summer evenin’.

“Excuse me?”

“Helps with circulation.”

“I don’t understand…”
“Sir, certain aspects of yer features ‘ave uncanny resemblanc’ to a starfish. They need wat’r to live, ya know.” I turn and leave, shore-sure he’s now got skin to match those gogglin’ eyes.  Nothin’ like an insult to knock ‘em round ‘bout.