Pinky’s Burger House (Part 2)
Part 1 Part 1.5 Pinky’s Burger House had this quaint-coffeeshop-ensconced-in-the-mountains ambiance. While I flipped burgers and served fries, I wondered if I’d made the right choice trusting Mr Pink (the owner). What was I going to get, working 9-4, wearing a greasy apron, a fading pink jacket with a picture of a walrus on the… Continue reading
Pinky’s Burger House (Part 1)
This is part 1 of a many part series about my experiences at a job I worked in recently. Whether this series is fact or pure fiction is up to the reader to decide. I woke up that crisp, winter morning hungover and went outside to get myself a cup of tea and a cigarette.… Continue reading
After failing as an artist (a synonym for unemployed), I worked in a mine in rural America. Not much in those badlands, except weeds the colour of my skin, jingoists who loved guns, and Confederate flags. There were some good people like the ones who left me alone as I… Continue reading
I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process. – Vincent Van Gogh We can’t work anymore — father’s old and anxious, staring at excel sheets, mother’s arthritis restrains her, praising God, her only succour, and I have shadows enveloping thoughts as I type this, forgetting… Continue reading
I no longer like the August rain, gone are the days when I sat in my apartment and made the monsoon my muse, going on and on about silvery streaks like the tears of benevolent providence coating the cobblestones, and flooding us with eunoia, making us pursue our passions with meraki, the song of the… Continue reading
Ordinary Person is a guy who likes to write. He writes fiction, essays, poems and other stuff.