So I broke apart and bleed in public again. In a Starbucks, no less. The few that asked about my tearful eyes and swollen nose were told, “The Santa Anas have started, and they are taking their due.”. They would smile and nod in understanding, pass on their seasonal advice, and promptly forget about me. …
Category Archives: Three Different Ways
Redressing The Wound
So I broke apart and bleed in public again. In a Starbucks, no less. The few that asked about my tearful eyes and swollen nose were told, “The Santa Anas have started, and they are taking their due.”. They would smile and nod in understanding, pass on their seasonal advice, and promptly forget about me. …
Sunday Scribblings #287: “Present”
As a child, I had rich Christmases. Each year the gifts were more elaborate and more expensive than the year before. Games and dolls and toys and gadgets to keep me occupied. But I never got what I really wanted. I saw them all as flashy noisy bribery to keep me out of the way. …
Sunday Scribblings #287: “Present”
As a child, I had rich Christmases. Each year the gifts were more elaborate and more expensive than the year before. Games and dolls and toys and gadgets to keep me occupied. But I never got what I really wanted. I saw them all as flashy noisy bribery to keep me out of the way. …
A Host Of Shadows
This happened over three years ago, in the early spring of 2008. I am reminded of it every time I turn onto the freeway. PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Sleepy driving is deadly. If you are tired, pull over. Better a ticket than killing yourself or others. Do not assume what saved my ass will save yours. …
A Host Of Shadows
This happened over three years ago, in the early spring of 2008. I am reminded of it every time I turn onto the freeway. PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Sleepy driving is deadly. If you are tired, pull over. Better a ticket than killing yourself or others. Do not assume what saved my ass will save yours. …
By A Thread
Migraine time again. So many images sweeping me up into a vortex of cacophonic assaults of light and movement. Many of them, nothing but misfirings of stressed neurons. Something to chuckle at, then discard like a Facebook opinion. But two days after one image in particular, I keep finding my attention drawn back to it. …
By A Thread
Migraine time again. So many images sweeping me up into a vortex of cacophonic assaults of light and movement. Many of them, nothing but misfirings of stressed neurons. Something to chuckle at, then discard like a Facebook opinion. But two days after one image in particular, I keep finding my attention drawn back to it. …
Plan B
The roses. The ribbons. The baby’s breath intertwined. The platters. The goblets. The special bottle of wine. The tablecloth. The napkins. The inked and handwritten cards. All strewn about the floor amidst clumps of broken shards. The work. The deception. The games our friends did play. My burnt thumb. My cut palm. My attempt to …
Plan B
The roses. The ribbons. The baby’s breath intertwined. The platters. The goblets. The special bottle of wine. The tablecloth. The napkins. The inked and handwritten cards. All strewn about the floor amidst clumps of broken shards. The work. The deception. The games our friends did play. My burnt thumb. My cut palm. My attempt to …