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continuous tempos and futuristic noise earth quaking a thousand miles away or if it was just me finding that new color in the rainbow i’d blame myself for wanting to look i’d take pride in finding it first

Amber Morrell


I didn’t mean to kill her. I found her as she exited the Metro station on Santa Monica Boulevard on Saturday afternoon, taking care not to get her heels caught in the ventilation grates in the sidewalk. She was a Latin American beauty, her long dark hair unnaturally straightened and falling to her breasts, which may or may not have been surgically enhanced. Navy blue denim, dark washed, clung to the curves of her hips, accentuating the contours of her body, her black tee shirt gathering slightly on her miniscule waist. I watched her from the other side of the street, my old Buick in the parking lot of a recently renovated Rite Aid, the radio turned on but muted. She’d only caught my attention because she seemed to loiter around, smoking occasionally, sitting on the bench with an advertisement on its back—Looking to Rent in Hollywood 90

2009-10 Parallax  

Idyllwild Arts Academy Student Literature/Art Magazine 2009-10