If only there were filling stations for our brains. Not like a school for “book learning,” but somewhere we can go when we’re only running on fumes. When there’s no fuel to spark an idea. We’re barely chugging along, and there’s no tow truck, no Good Samaritan to give us a push, not even a … Continue reading Fill’er up
Category: 100 Word Song
It’s the thought that counts
They lounged on opposite ends of the couch reading books of opposing viewpoints. Her feet rested in his lap as his absentmindedly massaged her calf. Laying down his book, he reached into his beard with both hands and raked it with curled fingers, coming away with a tiny piece of fuzz. "Here, I made you something." A single … Continue reading It’s the thought that counts
Rorschach ink blot
Ye shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor print any marks upon you..." ~ Leviticus 19:28 "Please, the whole town is coming." "And most of them are nuts off our family tree." She gave me that Look mothers use to frighten children into doing what they're told. "I don't understand … Continue reading Rorschach ink blot
Ramming speed
I took the first shift because I thought he'd wanna sleep. I'd gone to bed early so I'd be rested before we left. He never came to bed, instead he stayed up repacking the car like Tetris. Maybe he was wired from sleep deprivation, but Gawd, he would not stop talking. Kept rambling about people … Continue reading Ramming speed
I need to love you more
Her exaggerated eye-rolling and audible sigh left no doubt that she was done. His pained expression wasn't enough to guilt her into regret. "I just told you I loved you," he said. "No, you didn't. You simply regurgitated one of your lame, hackneyed pickup lines. Even after a year, I still don't know how you … Continue reading I need to love you more
A whole lot of shakin’ goin’ on
Teeth-chattering, goose-pimply, words dropping like ice cubes from trembling lips, cold. Not cold, nervous energy, enough to air condition a third-world, desert country. Normally a well-maintained professional, whenever he's around, I turn into a quivering jellyfish. I can't speak without stammering or walk without stumbling over a piece of lint on the carpet. I must … Continue reading A whole lot of shakin’ goin’ on





