Running Through Your Past
David Himmel David Himmel David Himmel David Himmel

Running Through Your Past

I wound through parts of Flossmoor I didn’t even know existed, despite growing up there. Oh! That’s where Flossmoor Hills Elementary is. I just never had any reason to journey to that part of town. In the familiar parts, I found myself thinking about my childhood. Acknowledging all the landmarks with memories. That’s where I ditched school that one time and smoked cigarettes when I should have been in math class. This is where my high school friends and I would meet before school to smoke cigarettes. There’s where there used to be a church where I once tried to woo a girl by playing her punk songs as we sat in her car—it didn’t work—and would sometimes smoke cigarettes. I wasn’t a teenage smoker, but, apparently, when I did smoke, I did it all over town.

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For Love of Inanimate Objects
David Himmel David Himmel David Himmel David Himmel

For Love of Inanimate Objects

I’m a curator of stuff. A collector of evidence. I struggle to throw anything out because so many things are artifacts that map out my life’s journey. Each relic has a story about a moment that informs the person. In the most egotistical way possible, I’m preserving my legacy. Shaping it, really. Creating my own Presidential Library for a guy who will likely never be president. (Likely… This mid-life crisis I’m in has endless possibilities.)

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Drunk & Jaundiced
David Himmel David Himmel David Himmel David Himmel

Drunk & Jaundiced

He showed up drunk. The stumbling, the slurring, the hitting on the bartender in a perverted, nonsensical way aside He looked good. His hair had thinned. His belly had grown. But there was a New Wave Confidence appeal to him.

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The Smug City Snob with Nothing to Show but Three Tattoos
David Himmel David Himmel David Himmel David Himmel

The Smug City Snob with Nothing to Show but Three Tattoos

Through the winding hellish passage from city to the Western Suburbs
I realize I must not be depressed enough.
With time to kill, I pull into a Wheaton Chilis for a drink.And there it is. The Feeling.
That empty feeling of mediocrity and directionless arrival in a place that could be anywhere
Where the people could be anyone
Where everyone is no one.

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