Our dreams have a way of regressing us, don’t they? In our waking hours, we can remain masters of our own domain (or so we like to think), but in our dreams we may become the lost child we all fear we are—the kid who forgot to wear […]
Mornings I stand at the window, watching you, waiting for you to go. I stand until my feet grow tired, and I wonder sometimes what takes you so long to pull away. How things have changed. Not long ago, I ran to catch you before you walked out […]
The following is a work of fiction. Frankie used to refer to the Shady Acres as The Short Timers club. Each person there was not far from a game-ending heart attack or stroke. Frankie had developed an uncanny ability to foresee who was on the verge. Or maybe […]
The following is a work of fiction My first kiss with Carla happened at the State Fair. The whole thing looked like something a guy might plan ahead to do, just so he’d have a moving story to tell his kids someday, maybe even his grandkids. “We were […]
The following is a work of fiction. I only once saw Frankie emotionally shaken, and it didn’t alter my respect for him; in fact, it reinforced it. We got to talking about a friend of his he’d lost during the war. The guy’s name was Joe Stern, a […]
This won’t be an easy one for me. I will be touching on things that make me uncomfortable, but I think I ought to say what I am compelled to say, and I believe I need to read these words, once they’ve tethered to one another and been […]
I’m hoping for feedback on this one. I plan to enter it in a story contest next month, and I want to get a head start on tweaking before I submit it. Comments, please! (Note: I’m working with a 750 word limit, so don’t bother telling me it […]
If conservative outrage over what often appears to be a move of our society toward feminization holds merit, then the seaside town of Westport, Washington is certain to remain one of the few cities to maintain its staunch dedication to undaunted masculinity. You’ve seen the charming little Oceanside […]
I suppose we never outgrow our tendency to look up. I believe it’s a good thing. True, most of us look up to the wrong things, the wrong images, the wrong people. But looking up is a practice from which we never fully escape; it’s in our DNA. […]
There’s been a wandering in my flow recently, perhaps more of an arterial clog of the brain. The content is still floating about, my heart still capable of visualizing, but I feel stuck behind the wheel of a compact car in the midst of a demoralizing traffic jam. […]
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