Bryan Donoghue
Stories (4/0)
Tom From The Dock
I met Tom from the Dock tonight for the first time, and I have a feeling it won't be the last. Tom had to be at least 80 years old, out for a stroll along the wharf in the Charlestown Navy Yard around midnight on a Wednesday. Wasn't sure what to expect at first, an old white haired bearded guy with a paisley blazer and white pants, shambling up the road out of the corner of my eye. Realized he had seen me and corrected his course straight for me, so I knew an interaction was coming.
By Bryan Donoghue3 years ago in Humans
Opium For The Masses
Where the fuck did opium go? He might have been 14 when his parents sent him to Lawrence, Kansas to live with his friend Nick for the summer. 14 would have made it 1996. He didn’t remember too much from that time, but there was a shitload of 7-11 Big Gulp sodas, blunts, 40oz’s… which was what had had grown accustomed to from being 12-13 years old living in Connecticut… but was something of a surprise to see that same thing carrying on in some ‘hick state’ a thousand miles away.
By Bryan Donoghue3 years ago in Confessions
Lundi Gras Is Your Last Chance
The brittle fingers of the palm tree beat a sharp staccato against the ancient windowpane in the stiff winter wind. A chill has descended upon New Orleans, colder than anything felt in these parts in decades. But it’s more than just the temperature, it’s more than just a breeze - a dark coldness permeates the night, sending those who know back into their homes, back to safety.
By Bryan Donoghue3 years ago in Futurism