My mind drifted towards giraffes. I realized it was on account of the abnormally tall family of four behind us in line at Fish, our favorite restaurant in Sausalito. To avoid any doubt, the family was human and the restaurant… Read More ›
family
The Mower in the Window
She danced in the den, swinging from the door to the open window. She protected our secret through whatever addiction served her. The glare behind her loose curls told me everything. I walked past her, and wondered if I whispered:… Read More ›
We Light Candles
In my family, we light candles. Often a rite, sometimes a figurative nod. In either case, what results is something far greater than light. “I will light a candle for you,” we say. But with those words, we really mean,… Read More ›
Tapo Pharmacy Tapo Pharmacy
The sun bounced off the license plate screwed onto the car ahead of me. It was something about the way the metallic light caught my eye, maybe the quickness it skipped from silver to grey. I smiled as I put… Read More ›
A Moment Recognized
As someone who writes (I am serving a self-imposed probation against calling myself a “writer”), there is nothing better than recognizing a moment while it is happening. Images tend to burn into my mind and tangential thoughts weave into common… Read More ›
My Turn, Style!
The first problem was I was nearly out of time. I was Harrison Ford, sans the tweed, and I ran towards my only option. Home. The obstacles were countless, so when I found an opening that increased my odds to… Read More ›
Sometimes I’m Write
Somewhere between Paris and London, I reached the halfway point revising my book, Rolling for Coal. I say somewhere because I honestly had no idea where I was. At one point I told my wife that I was almost home,… Read More ›
What’d You Call Me?
What’d you call me? Though usually superfluous and rhetorical in nature, I must profess that I absolutely love this question – in fiction, and in life. Why? Because most often, when asked, we already know the answer. But for some… Read More ›
Meaning to Write
I’ve just become a better writer. I didn’t attend a writing conference, finish a book of prompts, or get a piece published. In fact, strictly speaking, I didn’t do anything. Life happened. As a result of this particular occasion, words,… Read More ›
The Field Across the Street
We simply called it the field. It was the vacant plot across from our house, just off Alta Mira. We’d say, Hey we’re going to the field. She’d tell us, Watch for cars. In the field, our curiosity fueled imaginations… Read More ›
eternal Domnation 