Clayton Cook
Bio
Clayton Cook is a polemicist, essayist, and creative writer focused on the irony of the human condition. On an odyssey in search for The Great Perhaps. A graduate of OHIO University with a degree in Political Management.
Stories (7/0)
Letters From Summer Camp
The second worst thing about sports road trips is not having freedom to masturbate. Kevin pulled the room key out, and led the way into the hotel room. Tyler, Will, and I followed, each of us dropped our bags in different parts of the room. We put our helmets and sticks together in the closet. Maybe Will says something about never having enough space. I remind everyone we have to be in the film room, a repurposed conference room, at 5:00.
By Clayton Cook2 years ago in Fiction
The Heir of the Varcolac
The beer is too watered down, but Maica suspects that if she drinks enough she’ll manage a few hours of sleep. Hadryan’s voice dances in her head telling her to run, to leave the woods. Her mouth was dry, and held the taste of dirt which was permanent when living in the wild. Bending down next to Tyson’s sleeping roll Maica slowly empties his bottle of beer into her mug.
By Clayton Cook2 years ago in Fiction
Theodore
College freshmen will do some crazy things, but my friends and I, we housed a puppy in our dorm without getting caught. For $100 Teddy could have been your secret too. Now of course after buying a bed, toys, food, and the vet bills he’d be more expensive. How much all that truly cost I can’t remember now. What I do remember are the close calls of hiding Teddy under a coat, or in a backpack to avoid the RAs. I remember us handing him between third floor windows as the RA knocked at the door. I doubt they ever believed me about my TV’s volume being the culprit, but they never stopped us from building a family around our new fuzzy friend.
By Clayton Cook2 years ago in Petlife
My Family's Dirt
Living in the country is supposed to heal our souls. The air is rather different, animals never far, but my grandfather never told me about his only neighbor. They only come out at night, make such a racket I jump in my sleep, and litter our fenced in yard with dozens of pellets. I wish my grandfather had just told me about this owl before I came here. I wanted to sit in the dirt, hunt my food, and avoid the real world. Rather than be haunted by my addictions though, I was now haunted by yellow eyes and cries. Cries of the winged predator, cries from its prey, and my own cries as I fail to find slumber from nature’s war games outside my window.
By Clayton Cook2 years ago in Fiction
Disciplined Rest
The idea that we currently live in the most stressful, confusing, and dangerous time in recent memory is very real to millions in the world. Our lives have been shut down, reopened, closed off, reformed, isolated, and drenched in living chaos in the midst of a global pandemic. In the meantime, everyday on social media I see reminders such as: drink more water, take vitamin D, and get my eight happy hours of beautiful undisturbed slumber. The band aids offered on social media do not solve the problem of how to deal with this constantly shifting world we’re all trying to safely navigate. We have yet to find a true north star that leads us all to a happy, and safe existence.
By Clayton Cook2 years ago in Longevity
The Crystal
Corey picked up his keys and wallet from the glazed tray as he stepped out into the cold. It had been 40 weeks since he was forced to move into this incomplete apartment. Into this broken life. Empty rooms, an unmade bed, half eaten cans of food which came equipped with their own families of flies, and stale bottles were the only company which greeted our new friend day to day. He found the less time he could spend inside the better. What began as nightly drives to distract his mind were now necessary just to prevent from gagging on the apartment’s air.
By Clayton Cook2 years ago in Fiction
