These Parts

Let me be the wronged when I try to understand where you go in the evenings.  Let me follow you around the corner and see you dart into the bushes, across the lane, to the subway.  I follow and wait.  You are not that part of me anymore that begins inside, pours out, circles and…

How to Tell Someone You Hate Their Writing

Have you ever left a comment on someone’s blog saying “I love this!” or “This really moved me!” or “I wish I had written that!” or “Lovely post!” or “Big hugs and lots of love!” or “Just…wow!” without actually having read the post? Or worse – said those things while really not liking the post…

Five Jars of Jam

            When Jeremy was ten, he grew a lot of facial hair. His parents ignored it. His brothers ignored it. But children at school whispered, and wondered: what’s wrong with this guy? Close to eleven, Jeremy fell off his bike. A car ran over his leg, breaking it. It took him four months to recover.…

Pickle

((I was asked about this story by a few people, reread it, and felt – as usual – that I didn’t even remember writing it! But here it is again, a strange story about a man and a woman, and a baby)) —————————————————————————————————————————————–             Anne wasn’t hit by a bus. She was standing still, staring…

Firstborn: Unnaturally Bright

              The moment of birth is a tangle of wires. “Ouch!” I cry, but the scientists are sleeping. They’re on their chairs, slumped on desks. “Over here!” I yell.             Awareness sucks. I look around, dying for a beer. Beer? So many varieties. Can’t taste any, though. “Wake up!” I scream.             An hour…