The Town Between
Daniel Appleby
Its library is still standing despite
the melancholic decay of time.
Two boys, one with glasses and
the other without, go inside the
bucket of crude oil and liquid
concrete. Outside, the trees are still
walking across the road, their roots,
broken and bruised, scar tissues flake
and melt to the red sun, landing on
the otherside no different to those
who were born and bred with starchy
rest, cry till they cry when night finally
arrives. I, sitting on a chair, holding
a book of what-ifs and mirrors, feel
the ceiling panels adjust themselves
to my chronically skewed disposition
towards time. The church stands like a
tired remembrance, the dead are still dead; a
new stone monument built to remind us
what we shall never become yet guilted
into envying for (trust me, I do not envy
death as I am scared of it). My neurodivergence
views the world as a speck of dirt, versatile
and traditional. Would I live here?
Accommodations are limitless
because commitment is a fantasy
made by dreams.
Soon, the school will be burnt by apathy,
kids will code their new Bible, and
the trees will finally cross to the
new patch of emerald grass.
I slip into my car. Fionn Regan plays.
The gates to the road open
up a garden that is riddled with memories.
I drive so the world can be
set. It is still loading. I don’t know
when it will be finished.
Daniel Appleby
Daniel Appleby is an autistic, bass-playing writer and poet who is currently in the process of turning his room into a personal library. He has been published in Breaking the Static: A Chapter House Anthology, Kinpaurak, Meow Meow Pow Pow Lit's Superfan Wrestling Zine (forthcoming publication), and has performed his poetry at the Faversham Literary Festival Poetry Slam Competition Feb 2024. Find him on Instagram at @danie_lappleby.