Spit, Fire! Spout, Rain!
@spitfirespoutrain.bsky.social
Serial novel in posts mainly about members of the unhoused community in Lawrence, Kansas, (#LFK).
He fell into the deep dark, the dark deep, a constant falling, the collapse of the outer world.
For hours or minutes, minutes like hours, he embraced nothing, was nothing.
For hours or minutes, minutes like hours, he embraced nothing, was nothing.
December 10, 2025 at 7:35 PM
He fell into the deep dark, the dark deep, a constant falling, the collapse of the outer world.
For hours or minutes, minutes like hours, he embraced nothing, was nothing.
For hours or minutes, minutes like hours, he embraced nothing, was nothing.
He rolled over to his side, and that did the magic, his brain turned mushy. He was a body, a collection of meat. He clenched his eyes tighter, stared at his inner dark. Frankie should, but, no, Charles pushed it away. He settled into the fuzz.
December 10, 2025 at 3:08 AM
He rolled over to his side, and that did the magic, his brain turned mushy. He was a body, a collection of meat. He clenched his eyes tighter, stared at his inner dark. Frankie should, but, no, Charles pushed it away. He settled into the fuzz.
He squeezed his cold hands under his thighs. A rush of wind jiggled his tent. The finger he broke in third grade offered its usual sore-knuckled complaint. Why did Frankie even come around The Hole anymore?
December 9, 2025 at 2:35 AM
He squeezed his cold hands under his thighs. A rush of wind jiggled his tent. The finger he broke in third grade offered its usual sore-knuckled complaint. Why did Frankie even come around The Hole anymore?
He sunk into the memory of his body, inhaled his spicy-sour BO, the smell of giving up, now a permanent tang. He lolled in his own odor, but in a bit, his nose would habituate.
December 7, 2025 at 9:30 PM
He sunk into the memory of his body, inhaled his spicy-sour BO, the smell of giving up, now a permanent tang. He lolled in his own odor, but in a bit, his nose would habituate.
He eyed the pile of laundry, as large and as fragrant as a Bernese mountain dog. He should shove it all in the duffel and walk to the bus stop and sit in the laundromat, watch his clothes spin. He should. He had the money for it. He had the time. He was a billionaire when it came to seconds.
December 7, 2025 at 12:53 AM
He eyed the pile of laundry, as large and as fragrant as a Bernese mountain dog. He should shove it all in the duffel and walk to the bus stop and sit in the laundromat, watch his clothes spin. He should. He had the money for it. He had the time. He was a billionaire when it came to seconds.
"I don't know that," Frankie said.
Charles frowned.
"But you're right," she said, "at least about the cold. Sorry—you're not even dressed. You go get warm."
"Bye, Frankie," Charles said and turned before she could say it back, trudged toward his tent.
Charles frowned.
"But you're right," she said, "at least about the cold. Sorry—you're not even dressed. You go get warm."
"Bye, Frankie," Charles said and turned before she could say it back, trudged toward his tent.
December 5, 2025 at 9:51 PM
"I don't know that," Frankie said.
Charles frowned.
"But you're right," she said, "at least about the cold. Sorry—you're not even dressed. You go get warm."
"Bye, Frankie," Charles said and turned before she could say it back, trudged toward his tent.
Charles frowned.
"But you're right," she said, "at least about the cold. Sorry—you're not even dressed. You go get warm."
"Bye, Frankie," Charles said and turned before she could say it back, trudged toward his tent.
"It doesn't seem like nothing," Frankie said, but Charles was all nothing and owned nothing. He had nothinged himself down, nearly to zero.
He rubbed his arms in a theatrical way.
He rubbed his arms in a theatrical way.
December 5, 2025 at 12:44 AM
"It doesn't seem like nothing," Frankie said, but Charles was all nothing and owned nothing. He had nothinged himself down, nearly to zero.
He rubbed his arms in a theatrical way.
He rubbed his arms in a theatrical way.
"Look—I know he's messed up," Charles said. He was pissed all of a sudden. "Everybody's messed up. You're messed up, Frankie! You act like you aren't, but—"
"Whoa, whoa," she said softly.
He didn't even get to the part about her fancy apartment.
"Whoa, whoa," she said softly.
He didn't even get to the part about her fancy apartment.
December 3, 2025 at 7:53 PM
"Look—I know he's messed up," Charles said. He was pissed all of a sudden. "Everybody's messed up. You're messed up, Frankie! You act like you aren't, but—"
"Whoa, whoa," she said softly.
He didn't even get to the part about her fancy apartment.
"Whoa, whoa," she said softly.
He didn't even get to the part about her fancy apartment.
"John's kind of old to be catching boxcars."
Frankie swiped at her eyes, pushed a hank of peroxide blond out of her face. She shrugged, her lips pressed into each other.
"Where is he?" she asked.
Frankie swiped at her eyes, pushed a hank of peroxide blond out of her face. She shrugged, her lips pressed into each other.
"Where is he?" she asked.
December 3, 2025 at 12:35 AM
"John's kind of old to be catching boxcars."
Frankie swiped at her eyes, pushed a hank of peroxide blond out of her face. She shrugged, her lips pressed into each other.
"Where is he?" she asked.
Frankie swiped at her eyes, pushed a hank of peroxide blond out of her face. She shrugged, her lips pressed into each other.
"Where is he?" she asked.
Chapter 15: Charles
Frankie wouldn't let him go. She smelled of shampoo and cigarettes, running water and money to burn.
Frankie wouldn't let him go. She smelled of shampoo and cigarettes, running water and money to burn.
December 2, 2025 at 12:47 AM
Chapter 15: Charles
Frankie wouldn't let him go. She smelled of shampoo and cigarettes, running water and money to burn.
Frankie wouldn't let him go. She smelled of shampoo and cigarettes, running water and money to burn.
They did not stop.
Something fiery clapped through him. He couldn't yell, breathed in his own wet. They had kicked his legs off.
Something fiery clapped through him. He couldn't yell, breathed in his own wet. They had kicked his legs off.
November 30, 2025 at 5:22 PM
They did not stop.
Something fiery clapped through him. He couldn't yell, breathed in his own wet. They had kicked his legs off.
Something fiery clapped through him. He couldn't yell, breathed in his own wet. They had kicked his legs off.
They kicked and kicked, and they did not stop, and they kicked his hand off, it was gone, and he was losing parts, and he tried to speak, raised his head to say what? Why? What?
November 29, 2025 at 8:34 PM
They kicked and kicked, and they did not stop, and they kicked his hand off, it was gone, and he was losing parts, and he tried to speak, raised his head to say what? Why? What?
Cheers spouted somewhere, and he took a kick to the kidneys, to his neck, again to his eye that couldn't see, and he spun around the old stones, he was graffiti, but no one could read it, no one would read anything about him.
November 28, 2025 at 9:39 PM
Cheers spouted somewhere, and he took a kick to the kidneys, to his neck, again to his eye that couldn't see, and he spun around the old stones, he was graffiti, but no one could read it, no one would read anything about him.
Somewhere out there, headed to a better place, a train made its bassoon call. A different place. Just different.
November 27, 2025 at 5:21 PM
Somewhere out there, headed to a better place, a train made its bassoon call. A different place. Just different.
They surrounded him again. From the ground, he could see only masks and boots, camoflauge. Blood dripped down John's face. His hand buzzed electric.
November 26, 2025 at 8:22 PM
They surrounded him again. From the ground, he could see only masks and boots, camoflauge. Blood dripped down John's face. His hand buzzed electric.
The weight of men pressed him down, and one of them poppped him in the ear, and then they were climbing off.
"He's not even here, bro," the tall guy said.
"He's not even here, bro," the tall guy said.
November 25, 2025 at 10:46 PM
The weight of men pressed him down, and one of them poppped him in the ear, and then they were climbing off.
"He's not even here, bro," the tall guy said.
"He's not even here, bro," the tall guy said.
Someone's leg shot out, and John dodged, but a punch grazed his forehead and then they rained down on his back, and the tall one kicked him again, and John was so fucked.
November 24, 2025 at 9:44 PM
Someone's leg shot out, and John dodged, but a punch grazed his forehead and then they rained down on his back, and the tall one kicked him again, and John was so fucked.
Someone pushed him, and John lurched forward. The tall man shoved him back, and then someone else struck him from the side, then someone else, like they were playing catch with him, hot potato.
November 24, 2025 at 1:04 AM
Someone pushed him, and John lurched forward. The tall man shoved him back, and then someone else struck him from the side, then someone else, like they were playing catch with him, hot potato.
As he ran, John pulled the mace from his pocket, and as he did, as it all twirled and twisted, as everything everythinged, he heard crashes and footsteps behind him, multiple people jumped and sprinted and charged in the alley. A dumpster lid crashed down.
November 22, 2025 at 9:52 PM
As he ran, John pulled the mace from his pocket, and as he did, as it all twirled and twisted, as everything everythinged, he heard crashes and footsteps behind him, multiple people jumped and sprinted and charged in the alley. A dumpster lid crashed down.
Damn, he was in a stupid tactical position. John dropped to his knees near the end of the wall, and his left knee popped its dull pain. He lowered his head and slowly pushed it past the lip of the wall.
November 22, 2025 at 12:13 AM
Damn, he was in a stupid tactical position. John dropped to his knees near the end of the wall, and his left knee popped its dull pain. He lowered his head and slowly pushed it past the lip of the wall.
John turned to the roofs again. He was being watched, he just knew, but he saw nothing, no M16 sited on him. He wasn’t a crack shot, never was, but even he could have pegged himself off easy.
November 21, 2025 at 1:51 AM
John turned to the roofs again. He was being watched, he just knew, but he saw nothing, no M16 sited on him. He wasn’t a crack shot, never was, but even he could have pegged himself off easy.
A kid used to give him free sandwiches there, at Pickleman's, but John didn't remember his name. This last year, he had forgotten all the names and all the faces, all the people, except one, one face, one idea, and even that one didn't have a name.
November 20, 2025 at 2:53 AM
A kid used to give him free sandwiches there, at Pickleman's, but John didn't remember his name. This last year, he had forgotten all the names and all the faces, all the people, except one, one face, one idea, and even that one didn't have a name.
He was at the Antique Mall now, the huge barn of a building. It had a fancy pot or teacup something painted on the side—he could see it in the half light, it had the head of a dog, maybe a spout, and and the dog's curled tail was the handle.
November 19, 2025 at 3:45 AM
He was at the Antique Mall now, the huge barn of a building. It had a fancy pot or teacup something painted on the side—he could see it in the half light, it had the head of a dog, maybe a spout, and and the dog's curled tail was the handle.
From far behind, John heard another cheer from the crowd back on Mass Street, and he was not part of that, never was. Acid fought up his throat, and he enlisted spit and gravity to wash it back down.
November 17, 2025 at 10:14 PM
From far behind, John heard another cheer from the crowd back on Mass Street, and he was not part of that, never was. Acid fought up his throat, and he enlisted spit and gravity to wash it back down.
John couldn't even tell by the sound if it were the veteran. He didn't know. He couldn't tell. Maybe it wasn't him. John could turn here, walk right through the parking lot, right?
November 17, 2025 at 1:08 AM
John couldn't even tell by the sound if it were the veteran. He didn't know. He couldn't tell. Maybe it wasn't him. John could turn here, walk right through the parking lot, right?