Gavin Lucky is a peripatetic teacher. Previous work of his has appeared in Shot Glass Journal, Otoliths, Riverbed Review, and MacQueen's Quinterly.

Gavin Lucky

---

 

Victoria Park

Drinking the coffee to its grounds, I take stock. The ambient temperature is about seventeen degrees celsius. My socks are wet. I am missing you. I am considering religious symbology at this symbolic time of year. I am considering what to get at the supermarket. What brand of peanut butter. What you look like. What kind of toothpaste. My teeth are yellowing, my hairline is beating a slow, undignified retreat across my scalp like Napoleon's army leaving Russia in 1813. If a bomb went off on a plane, do you think your mind would have enough time to comprehend the situation, do you think you would have enough time to go "Oh shit!" before you lost consciousness? What a funny turn of phrase! When is consciousness ever really found? Anyways I'm staring at the tulip beds here at scenic, etc...