no-leverage dot com » words

{tow}

hvincent — Fri, 26 Mar 2010 23:46:18 +0000

ambiguity, scale. so much noise in my head, trying to sort it out. listening.

read here (pdf)

{blizzards and sticks}

hvincent — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 04:45:30 +0000

i am terrified of summer and already miss the snow.

read here (pdf)

{the librarian’s books}

hvincent — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 02:08:14 +0000

ew.

read here{pdf}

{charles, 0}

hvincent — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 03:52:42 +0000

today’s piece is not a stand-alone; i was trying out my new typewriter and this came out. there will be more installments someday. maybe.

read here (pdf)

{pee}

hvincent — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 02:37:13 +0000

i hate peeing while i’m still half-asleep because sometimes i’m not convinced i woke up.

read here (pdf)

{the sleeping sickness}

hvincent — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 01:17:58 +0000

things i have learned so far are that tinyfictions are really hard to write and that i am bad at keeping on top of self-inflicted deadlines. these are both things i should improve on.

read here (pdf)

{and that was it}

hvincent — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 01:23:10 +0000

hello, first friday fiction.

i started this piece from a scrap, a paragraph or so that i scribbled while out at dinner last night, and finished it this afternoon. based loosely on a tiny piece of a longer short fiction draft that i wrote a few years ago.

read here (pdf)

{beyond the river}

hvincent — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 02:06:06 +0000

a deergirl finding her way home in the winter.

read it (pdf)

(on a related note, i have decided that every friday before midnight i must produce a piece of short/micro fiction with no subject matter or context restraints. put that bachelor of arts in creative writing to use, damn it.)

{displace}

hvincent — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 01:15:18 +0000

exploring the attempts of plant matter at displacing human construction.

blinds

hvincent — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 13:09:02 +0000

it used to be that taking pictures made me feel better. i’d hold a tiny little point and shoot in my hands and when i pushed the shutter release halfway down to focus, i could feel the tiny little motors spinning the lens, struggling to determine just what it was i wanted to focus on, even though it had no eyes. now, i can feel the nice, solid ka-chunk my camera makes when it flips up the mirror and smashes that big mechanical shutter over its sensor; people who take my camera for a spin compliment how good it feels. how comfortable that noise sounds. you hear that and you know the camera’s working hard. but everything looks just a little bit off to me. it’s like the picture where the focus isn’t quite right, where there’s a blurry foreground that hurts a little to look at, a horizon that isn’t just straight, but isn’t purposefully tilted, either. it’s like when you walk into someone else’s house and you look at their blinds and one of them is stuck. one of them flipped the wrong way, or got caught on the cables. you want to reach over and fix it, but your host is watching you, and it would be rude. it’s like seeing years of dust and dirt caked on the blinds because no one bothers to clean them. it’s a pain in the ass to clean them. yeah. that’s what this feels like.