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Archive VIII – Apr-Nov 2024
Archive VII – Jan-Apr 2024
Archive VI – Sept-Dec 2023
Archive V – Apr-Sept 2023
Archive IV – Jan-Apr 2023
Archive III – Oct-Dec 2022
Archive II – Aug-Oct 2022
Archive I – Jul-Aug 2022
By appointment only, I am the only one in the new barber shop everyone has been raving about.
As I sit in the chair and allow the cloth to be tied around my neck I notice, too late, something funny about the reflection in the mirror.
The barber isn’t there.#vss365 #sit
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 28, 2022
Thespacesbetweenthewordsyouchoosetowritearejustasimportantasthewordsthemselves.Thesamegoesforthequietmomentsbetweenthoughtssharedaloud.Themosteffectivecommunicationhappensinthoseinbetweens,whensomeoneisgiventimetoreflectandconsidertheirownthoughts.#vss365 #between
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 24, 2022
“You need to come see this,” Ben had said, and he’d been right; I was glad I’d flown into the dig site.
I looked at the cave wall and, crudely drawn but unmistakeable, there was a portrait of me. The signature – my mother’s.
My mother died when I was six.#vss365 #cave
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 23, 2022
We hold hands around the willow tree and spread my aunt’s ashes. This place where we play now means so much more.
Up the hill and in the house Nan watches TV.
We haven’t told her about my aunt’s suicide because she’ll forget and we don’t want to have to repeat it.#vss365 #tree
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 17, 2022
The children scampered behind the fox in a field as he urged them on with harsh whispers to hurry.
“The door to this world is closed but not for long,” he said.
The sun shone in the sky behind them but left no shadows. This was a different place indeed.#vss365 #closed
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 15, 2022
His booth was in the far corner of the flea market, past the comic books, the old man with bottomless eyes and jack-o-lantern smile.
“NO REASONABLE OFFER DENIED”
The booth was empty, save him and the sign, and we were too scared to ask him what he sold.#vss365 #denied
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 13, 2022
The doctor told us that sometimes they hang on because they sense us in the room and they don’t want to leave us alone. She was fighting, for us.
Eyes red, taking shifts by her side for the last week, we listened and went home and she stopped fighting, for her.#vss365 #doctor
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 11, 2022
No AC, so we heard every word the people in the park said at 2 am; old windows propped open by old textbooks. The tap dripped, I served at The Greg, you cut hair, credit card bills unopened. I don’t want to go back to our early 20’s but I’ll never let go of them.#vss365 #credit
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 10, 2022
I saw a techno band once called 500 Megabytes. Great show but they stopped playing 45 minutes into a 90 minute set.
That’s solid brand management right there.
Only playing half a gig.#vss365 #gig
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 9, 2022
We rented a cabin in the woods and Steve tried to scare us with stories of an axe-wielding maniac who had terrorized the community a few years earlier. We yawned. Steve wasn’t a good storyteller.
I wish he’d been a better one.
Maybe we would have listened.#vss365 #maniac
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 8, 2022
Nameless, foot working the pedal, straw spinning into gold; the child would be his.
It had come to this.
Countless fertility clinics, doctors and treatments and still they were unable to conceive. She didn’t approve but he would do anything for her.
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 3, 2022
“Come children, quickly, into the story…”
Portia and Charlie watched as the fox scampered across their father’s study, leapt onto the desk and disappeared into the old book they had found.
Another bang on the door.
Holding hands and breaths, they followed.#vss365 #story
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) December 2, 2022
“Find the weird ones,” my uncle Roy used to tell me. “Find the people on the outside of the circle, those wearing different shoes, who laugh funny or who talk or dance differently. They’ll be the ones you want to be friends with when you’re older.”
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) November 22, 2022
“Behave and you won’t get hurt,” the worm thought-told the children. It sat straight up in the hollow hole of the witch’s eye.
The witch stretched out her hand. They screamed but did not move; frozen in terror.
She reached past them and pushed the door closed.#vss365 #behave
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) November 19, 2022
Oh, us pedestal people talk too, you know. We gossip, high enough up that our words can’t be heard. We see the roadblocks in front of you and don’t warn you. We see your shadows and bald spots.
Don’t blame us if this makes you feel bad.
You put us here.#vss365 #pedestal
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) November 18, 2022
Grandad loved his nebula, stored in a giant glass case in his study.
“Harvesting gravity,” he’d say.
Clearing out his home, none of us wanted the responsibility, nor did we have the space.
So there it sits on the curb, waiting for a passing God to pick it up.#vss365 #nebula
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) November 15, 2022
He breathed in the sea air with satisfaction and eyes closed; this was his time, his syntonic moment, and he smiled.
No one would be able to tell if the body at the bottom of the cliff was the clone or the original.
Either way, now he was the only one left.#vss365 #syntonic
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) November 8, 2022
The first time we held hands I just knew she was the one. The way her fingers fit into mine, so comfortable, as if we had been holding hands forever.
We just held hands for the last time; the hospital beeps growing fainter but I’m smiling. It’s time to sleep.#vss365 #mine
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) October 30, 2022
Hank’s breath hitched with each cast Sherry made. Their old fishing hole, his, hers and Al’s, Sherry always outfishing them all.
Now Al was gone and they fished in silence.
And with every cast Hank worried Sherry might hook the burlap sack that held Al on bottom.#vss365 #cast
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) October 21, 2022
We had to.
She’d gone mad, they’d said. Bit by a rabid fox, most likely. Couldn’t be trusted anymore.
Where they saw foam I saw drool; she was “running hot” but she felt fine to me.
We had to, they said.
It wasn’t them, it was the fox’s fault.
— Lee Zanello (@_LimaZulu) October 18, 2022