On a Walk in Long Beach
Tommy Jarrell Today I was the collector of intention and the ground a catcher of sawdust beneath a whirring tablesaw where newlyweds were committing their recently purchased home to renovation. Nearby, a cow- colored cat watched my every move beneath the green, unripened weight of pomelos still tethered to their tree. On a busy avenue, by an abandoned taco stand, two mormon missionaries, in their short sleeves of summer, were engaged in conversation with a trio of men in lightly soiled flannel. I passed the church that seems to be perpetually in service, the murmurs of prayer slithered out its open doors and windows and married with the concerned creaking of palm fronds pushed by the barely existent breeze. The sun set itself behind the hills of San Pedro like a child putting herself to bed and the buildings converted themselves to silhouettes beneath the glowing clipped toenail of a moon. Standing on the corner waiting to cross the street the apartments and bodegas, in their newfound blackness, were so unidentifiable I nearly forgot my own name. |
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About the Author:
Tommy Jarrell was born and raised in Maryland. He earned his MFA at the University of California, Irvine in 2015. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Squaw Valley Review, The Hunger, Rascal, and 805. He currently lives, writes, and teaches in Los Angeles. Cover photo contributed by author.
Tommy Jarrell was born and raised in Maryland. He earned his MFA at the University of California, Irvine in 2015. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Squaw Valley Review, The Hunger, Rascal, and 805. He currently lives, writes, and teaches in Los Angeles. Cover photo contributed by author.