His voice was in her head as she gathered his things. When she was pregnant with their first, he teased her about “nesting,” laying everything perfectly for their baby. What would he call this, “distancing?” Picking up his can of shaving gel, she held it to her face, breathing in his scent. She put it … Continue reading ‘Til death do us part
Tag: memories
Blues Brothers
Bathed in the glow of a blue moon, they gather. Speaking in hushed tones, talk turns to serious matters, words too harsh for the bright light of day. Blue language peppers their discussions, being men of a certain age common civilities are irrelevant. Bitter debate dissolves into ribald tales of blue virgins, willingly turned to … Continue reading Blues Brothers
Pay-per-view
I turned out sofa cushions and emptied overflowing coin jars, trying to find as many quarters as I could, cashing in any remaining change for rolls of 25¢ pieces. Dropping my coins into the slots of a pay-per-view telescope trained on the horizon, I tried focusing on faraway images floating just out of sight. Fading … Continue reading Pay-per-view
Should she, or shouldn’t she
I find myself in a dilemma, in a situation where I have a choice between what I want to do and what I probably should do. It's been like Old Home Week around here lately. I've reconnected with old friends that I haven't seen or talked to in years. Even better, these reunions have all … Continue reading Should she, or shouldn’t she
Gone but not forgotten
I have a retired blog, one that ran for more than three years. I had over 1,000 posts and nearly 20,000 comments. I'm not saying that in any way to brag, not that it's much to boast about, but only to illustrate that I was actively publishing my stuff there. It closed nearly two years ago. … Continue reading Gone but not forgotten
Runaway
When I was a child I took a tattered baby blanket and spread it out on my bed. On top, I placed my favorite stuffed toy, some picture books, and a plastic bag of Goldfish crackers. Pulling up the four corners, I tied the bundle into a knot, threw my makeshift hobo bag over my … Continue reading Runaway