She lay on their unmade bed every day after work and for many hours on the weekends. On her right lay a brown plastic tray with a mug of coffee, usually cold, and a pear shaped ashtray full of butts. The yellow rotary phone sat on the nightstand to her left, easily accessible since she … Continue reading CRAFT – REVISITED
Participated in a writing lab/class type of thing this week. The first day we wrote non-fiction so I wrote about the first time I met someone. We shared the gist of our stories and then our teacher/coach/tormentor person, Bronwyn pickout out a theme. For me it was "It was good until it wasn't." The next … Continue reading It Was Good Until It Wasn’t
Love has a lifespan too. If you are lucky you will know love from its infancy to your deathbed. You will know it intimately, through every season and endless years full of happiness, struggles, rage, joy and everything in between. You are minding your own business doing your thing, living your life and not hurting … Continue reading Young Love
The Great Highway was impossibly long; stretching at least a hundred miles. The straight and narrow highway running the length of Ocean Beach in San Francisco was one of the earliest banes of my existence. Most days after school I walked home or my grandmother picked me up. On rare occasions I would see my … Continue reading Straight and Narrow
Her hands hurt; she lies in bed clenching and unclenching her fists, warming them up like she warms up her car when its windshields are icy. She stretches her fingers, pulling each one until the knuckle cracks. She checks her phone, hoping for a nice email or text then relives her memories on Facebook, starting … Continue reading Signs of Life . . .
He sighed and looked at the long white and tan expanse in front of him. He had hoped for smoother terrain but as far as he could see there were peaks and valleys, with multicolored tinges of something he couldn’t identify sparkling in the distance. This would be a long day. “A job is a … Continue reading Footprints in the sand …
Walter was born in Austria in 1930 with twin brothers arriving two years later. The three boys lived with their parents in a comfortable home in close proximity to their large extended family. Fritzi was an at home mother, and Max owned a store. In his eighth year Walt’s life irreparably changed; while in the … Continue reading To Survive and Thrive
As the landlord for the various housing tracts in the popular suburb of “La Garage,” I rent space to many people and families. The suburb is large and broken down into a variety of neighborhoods, each one significantly different than the others. In one of the older subdivisions, “Bookshelves by the Back”, The Happy Hollisters, … Continue reading The Abandoned Chore
After endless hours pouring over profiles, ten guys made the final cut. Two of them were Jewish, just to make my parents happy but they weren’t great prospects in my opinion. Seven were some variation of Catholic and one was a mutt; half Jewish on his Dad’s side and Christian on his mother’s (in other … Continue reading Empty Vessel
I have been thinking a lot about the similarities with the story The Handmaid’s Tale (brilliantly written by Margaret Atwood) and the MAGA (Make America Gilead Already) phenomena going on in the country right now. It shocks me (but it doesn’t) how married men are to their privilege, even the “enlightened” and/or feminist men. But … Continue reading The Milkman’s Tale – maybe just one little political post . . .