Joshua Kirby #4 - Burial

1,203. The dead far outnumbered the living at the ceremony. The latter count being only twelve, if you include the priest. He delivered his eulogy with a special brand of empty reverence, reserved for only this mass ceremony. Every year, thousands of dead go unclaimed, no relatives and no estate to pay for a proper burial. They end up here, to the annual mass ceremony on April 1st. The only mourners are a few county workers and two community outreachers who wished they could do more. Cremated and mixed, they rest together in a large plot, annotated only by a plaque saying the year and the plot's population.

Kelly Dougher #1 - Fireworks

It was summer, and the boardwalk had free fireworks every Wednesday night. It was sticky and warm, with the dark beach in front and the bright lights of rides behind as the crowd stood facing the ocean breeze. Everyone talked loudly and in good humor while they waited, watching the shadows scurry along the shoreline, setting up in the sand. Minutes before the show started, a mother told her three daughters the story of the accident that happened here years ago. She was a young woman then, standing near this very spot watching the fireworks display, when one rocketed bizarrely off in the wrong direction and hit a small boy in the face. Gold and red shone everywhere. They rushed him to the hospital, but it was too late. Suddenly, sharp crack made the family jump and look up, startled, as the display began. The girls laughed at themselves and turned their faces upwards. Their mother watched carefully the bright reflections in their eyes the entire time.

Worth noting

Not a vignette, but Drew from Toothpaste For Dinner definitely gets what we're about even if he has no idea who we are.

toothpastefordinner.com

Joshua Kirby #2 - Sonic Dreams

She believed in her heart that she was the first person to ever have a dream entirely in music. There were no pictures, no images. No sights, just sounds. The dream symphony was gorgeous, though, like all dreams, ephemeral. Fleeting. By morning much of it had gone, the composition undone. She wrote what she could remember and patched the cracks, though the larger holes proved impossible to fill. All that ever came from it was a good story and the strange looks its telling precipitates. 

Joshua Kirby #1 - Sidewalk

He sits down on the hard sidewalk, cement warmed by the sun. He bakes under his black t-shirt. He doesn't sit on the curb or against a wall. He doesn't even face the street, instead looking at the buildings and the people passing, back against a parking meter, still twenty two minutes left on it. No car is in the spot. He entire back vibrates after his head knocks against the pole. His legs were at first outstretched, though he brings his feet towards him to allow people to pass. He rests his arms on his knees, now armpit level. The passersby divert their eyes from him they way they would from a vagrant. He doesn't care. He counts the people walking by and the cars behind him and is concerned by the ratio.