The girl with the sticky fingers doesn’t know she holds a rare artifact beneath her thumb. Please don’t think she’s stupid for that. Her mother doesn’t know either. Neither would you, were it your hand holding me (or your jeans pocket, or change purse, or the little compartment […]
His name is Navdeep, and he’s going to kill us. That’s the declaration of Andy, my traveling companion on this early morning ride share to the airport. Andy began his backseat commentary with, “Hey, that’s a red light!”, then graduated to “Dude, you’re gonna kill us!” We are […]
It’s time again for my annual birthday story. Writers sometimes talk of stories that write themselves. The older I get, the more elusive I find such stories to be. This one, however, did write itself. Channeling this tale brought me comfort; I hope it does the same for […]
Though his mind is not for rent, don’t put him down as arrogant. He reserves the quiet defense riding out the day’s events. The river. Tom Sawyer – Rush I didn’t learn of the place called Birthday Town from google, and I didn’t buy the tickets I gifted […]
The following is a collaborative effort between myself and my ten-year-old son. The initial concept was his. He was two pages in when he said he’d written himself into a corner. I was impressed with what he’d come up with and didn’t want to see the story wasted, […]
It is my forty-third birthday today, and this year I am dedicating my annual birthday story, written from the POV of a character who shares the same birthday, to the man called Buffalo Dave. Buffalo Dave, wherever you are, this story won’t make you famous, but I hope […]
In a time not long ago, in a land both strange and familiar, two brothers walked a path together. It was a path they used often, for it led to a stream where fish swam, and one of the brothers had devised an ingenious way of catching the […]
A hammock is the best place to relax. This is what my wife told me when I opened her birthday present to me––a woven, technicolored hammock––complete with poles, since our tiny yard lacks the requisite pair of trees. At first, I laughed at the gift, but now that […]
The air is drenched with odors of chlorine and perspiration, seasoned with a tang of Sharpie marker. One such marker shuffles across the back of a cherub-faced girl two bleacher rows below me. The girl’s mother watches the scoreboard clock with one eye while minding her own […]
On the wall of my kitchen there is a clock. I bought it at IKEA sixteen years ago, back when everyone thought IKEA was kind of cool. The clock has been a faithful keeper of time these sixteen years, though that’s a simple job when you think about […]
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