by Kenneth Clay
Depending on the article you read, psychologists will say that there are a certain number of types of loneliness. Whether it’s three, seven, or fifteen, there are different types of loneliness, which boil down to two main types. These are: 1. Existential...
by Kenneth Clay
When Cameron first saw my car, he mentioned going to Seligman, AZ and, “seeing what my car can do.” Seligman was a 120 miles away, and I had three-hundred miles. I also had ten-dollars for gas money. I called up Cameron and he answered rather quickly. “What’s...
by Kenneth Clay
It began five days ago. Josiah had called me up, saying that his babymama was gone for the week, and invited everyone to stay while she was gone. He ordered us all to bring alcohol, cigarettes, vapes, weed, and food. It was going to be a wild fucking week. I was at my...
by Kenneth Clay
The drive up to Maine was quiet. We weren’t arguing, jamming needles in our veins, or any of that shit. But there was just something missing. Everything we had, our friendships, our dynamics, had all fallen apart. We had beat our demons, we had healed, but there...
by Kenneth Clay
Payte wanders the highway with his fists curled up inside his pockets. His breathing is panicked. Adrenaline courses through his veins. Return to me, Payte. Heed my calling, feel my words, really, just let them flow through. I need you. And you need me. Let’s be...
by Kenneth Clay
We had gotten the van back. I laid awake on the cold dirt, sweating profusely, and clenching my teeth. I could absolutely not get out of my head. My thoughts swarmed and shoved and pushed, until there was nothing left but one single thought alone: Sure, I had had a...
by Kenneth Clay
I remember all of us walking back to the van in silence. It was like we knew what was coming. When Thomas saw Jack, lying on the seat, cold and dead, there was nothing. Then Travis came over, and then nothing. Just shock. Our brains couldn’t handle it. Then...
by Kenneth Clay
Seagulls flew far above in the sky, circling the ocean, and swooping down only to rise back up again. An endless cycle. The clouds were a milky gray that blotted out the sun, leaving only dim traces of light. The water was a dark gray and icy cold. You couldn’t...
by Kenneth Clay
We were in the Vermont boondocks, heading North-East through miles of snow-covered hills. There was nothing but the moon shining down on us in all of it’s glory, and the barren road ahead. No man was around, not at that time of night. If you spend enough time...
by Kenneth Clay
“THOSE SONS OF BITCHES!” I yelled as I kicked a rock over. It rolled across the road, and down an embankment. Hold on, I need to do some explaining. We were cruising up to New York for supply when Jack was sitting in the driver’s seat, flipping through his cash....
