It took a silvery sliver of a second. I was only thirteen. It happened so long ago… Then why does it still weigh me down like a pair of gangster-style cement shoes? The sudden snap of light startled me from my transition into sleep…. I’d been edging into the relief of a dream…and then myContinue reading “Smothered Under Heavy Cement…”
Category Archives: Short Memoir
Little Green Worms
Part One My intention was to write an exquisite, precise, highly-calibrated account of the time I arrived at a therapy appointment covered with little green worms. It was to be written in the 1st person with little parenthetical flourishes and jokes. It would build to a breathless climax and end with an ironic punchline. ButContinue reading “Little Green Worms”
The Source of My Anxiety
My wife Susan had a dark streak. She carried herself like the pampered aristocrat she was but insisted she was a Surrealist. She actually told people that. “What do you do?” they’d ask. “I’m a Surrealist,” she’d say. She made Duchampian readymades. I, myself felt like a writer. Susan made things. I made things up.Continue reading “The Source of My Anxiety”
Buried Skeletal Remains
The Day Before Thanksgiving I am tromping across a frozen swamp this morning, foraging for scatterberries. The gunmetal gray sky is loaded with unreleased snow. It’s predicted to begin lavishing deep inches of the powdery stuff over the whole region today. The heavy hush and stillness that precedes a snowstorm always strikes a rhapsodic chordContinue reading “Buried Skeletal Remains”
Imagining the Ordinary
It started with the teabags, but before that. It’s hard to be certain when an adventure really begins but if I had to stick a pin into a point and make a mark, it wouldn’t be with the worms, it would be with the teabags. Memories bleed into dreams. Or is it the other wayContinue reading “Imagining the Ordinary”
Hollywood
“Before we start—I’m sorry, toots—what’s your name again?” “Beekeeper.” “Okay, Mavis. I just want to tell you that I’m not gonna talk about my marriage. Y’know. To you-know-who…” “Banana?” “Because I’m not here to provide material for the gossip rags. It’s nobody’s goddamn business. Hedda Hopper can go pound sand up her ass—pardon my French.”Continue reading “Hollywood”
Mike & Pete & Tanya
This is only what was told to me. When Mike Sturm learned that Petey Magritte had passed away, he told his wife, Diane, “The ranks are thinning,” and she nodded and went back to her scandal magazine. Mike had known Petey Magritte since they attended second grade together in 1975. Mrs. Gallini’s class. In theContinue reading “Mike & Pete & Tanya”
The Appointment
“Please, take a seat.” “Where? Which one?” “Either one is fine. Whichever one looks more comfortable.” “Okay. Thanks.” “It’s good to finally meet you, Adam. Put a face to the name. We could have done this over the phone but I like to see the people I work with face to face. At least atContinue reading “The Appointment”
A Cold Breakfast
I was young once and it lasted a good long mile. Like my grandfather before me. You may have heard of my grandfather if you’re a true crime enthusiast. He became an infamous spree killer way back in 1957. His transition was sudden. In 2003, some talentless hack cobbled together a short documentary on myContinue reading “A Cold Breakfast”
Ligature Marks
I was almost strangled to death once. A lying little toad named Oscar Costa tried to garrote me with a length of orange extension cord. My full name at the time of this incident was Emily Brinks. You read that right; I wasn’t given a middle name and at school I was bullied and pickedContinue reading “Ligature Marks”
Crumbling Asphalt 