Gene Morgan


It's Thanksgiving.

Yesterday, I was wearing shorts and basketball shoes, and today I feel like I should only eat animals I kill.

The trash cans were left turned over in a pool of streetwater.

I'm not sure cellphone cancer is even real, and If my design business fails, I want to be a firefighter.

I often feel my body deteriorating. I picture terrible things happening.

It's Thanksgiving, and I take all of our DVDs out of their cases and put them into a DVD portfolio. I alphabetize all of our DVDs, and take all of the paper waste out of the DVD cases to be recycled. I pack all of the blank DVD boxes into a cardboard box.

Later, we walk to a party, and I dance to Jennifer Lopez with my son.

I separate my trash into piles. I nod at people walking by.

It's Thanksgiving and I'm riding my bike to the bar. It's lesbian night.

It's Thanksgiving and I ride a motorcycle off of the side of a building, onto the back of an eighteen-wheeler.

It's Thanksgiving and I'm driving a 1989 Buick Regal through Japan.

Foghat is playing.

I feel my body deteriorating. I picture terrible things happening.

Sitting in a room, I look at the room for a little while. The room has green carpet.

I have night terrors. I wake up and feel the last moment of living. It's late, and I sit down in front of an outdoor fire pit.

I'm standing by a DVD kiosk at Walgreens, watching people rent movies. The price of living is fear.

I tug at the base of a sago palm, and remove a smaller palm from its side.

Gene Morgan lives in Texas with his wife and two children. He runs a web design business, helps with htmlgiant, and recently started to blog again. His website is

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