It’s taken six decades for me to figure out definitively, once for all, that my father was an asshole. In the sixties and seventies, I think my mother knew it too. There were a lot of telltale signs, but when you are eight, or ten, or twelve how can you know? Or if you knew, … Continue reading The Landlord (mature themed)
Late afternoon sun warmed Sara's feet. They were propped on a plastic cocktail table pushed into the corner rails of her small concrete deck. She had shoved the table to the corner for the added support. With wads of cotton packed between each toe, Sara was admiring the third coat of 'Black Ruby' nail polish; … Continue reading Spring Nesting
Light and dark passed slowly overhead. One long period of light followed by a brief interval of shadow. Light and dark, light and dark. Rhythmic. Cheryl must be driving them to his parent's house. Taking the first shift driving and he is asleep in the passenger seat, freeway lights moving overhead. Cheryl, the morning person. … Continue reading For Better or Worse
This was written as I tried to process my mother towards the end of her life.
No one expected it. But she looked right at him and clear as a bell said, "Don't take me yet. My momma isn't here." Tweed had heard of this sort of thing, of course; you can't be an EMT for thirteen plus years without hearing such stories. He just hadn't expected this to be one … Continue reading The Butterfly Effect