James hadn’t said a word to me since we left the Holland Tunnel heading south on I-95. We’d gone up to New York to see a friend’s band playing at a dingy club in the East Village and gotten in a fight. I’d fallen asleep when we left the city, but I woke up somewhere
Tag: writers life
“I have a surefire solution,” he said. “And, if she doesn’t like it, she’ll tell me in my dreams.” ****************** Born in the fall, between September 23 and October 22, he lived a cRaZy quilt kinda life, which his Libra zodiac traits tried – that’s tried – to harmonize like its symbol, a level beam
All my customers had the same old chat. It was uncanny. All these people, these hundreds of people who didn’t even know each other, and they all said the same little things to me every day. The most common by far was the one about bills. I’d give somebody their letters, and they’d tell me
Baron Von Luneberg, flight commander, iron cross recipient and celebrated war hero of the auspicious Luftwaffe finished loading the reconnaissance plane with looted nazi gold bullion. The war still raged towards Berlin, allied occupying forces were now pushing with impunity toward the command centres of the failed Third Reich. Luneberg, a descendent of Germanic aristocracy
On the 28th Day of Christmas Sherri Turner gave to me… It all seemed so familiar: the bushy tree, the presents wrapped in red and gold, the twinkling fairy lights. Holly laughed. Of course it did. Kevin always picked the fattest tree, he knew she loved red and gold and they’d had those lights for
On the 26th Day of Christmas Jayne Martin gave to me… Christmas Eve and the Target parking lot is packed. I screech to a halt in a handicapped space because screw it, a mental breakdown should count. His kids were supposed to be with his ex for Christmas until “Mom” high-tailed it to Panama at
Yes, Virginia, there was a Santa Claus. But he died for our sins. “Thank you Amazon Japan,” said Edward to his iPad. He’d purchased a foot stool—bland, functional, cheap—without visiting a store. Thank you was just words. Edward felt no gratitude. Stores were the biggest rip-off, especially department stores. But Edward tolerated their prepared-food kiosks,
When I was seven my father threw out my mother’s vintage dining table. It was a beautiful, untrustworthy beast that sucked all the air out of the room and swallowed up any tendril of light. Both marveling and fearing it, I’d run my hands down the curvature of its chestnut-colored legs; weeks later my hands
On the 22nd Day of Christmas Annie Bien gave to me… From Merriam Webster: I. Immaculate: adjective a) having no stain or blemish : pure, b) having or containing no flaw or error c) a: spotlessly clean b: having no colored spots or marks —used especially in botany and zoology # DK: Observational Note: An
On the 21st Day of Christmas Annie Bien gave to me… Mommy lifted the lid. The sweet aroma of sticky rice filled the kitchen. “You girls couldn’t be more different. Your sister wants everything American: a white fake tree, cotton snow, ornaments, wrapping paper, colored lights. That costs money. Is she mad because she thinks