My story about rock and roll, fatherhood, and a poke in the foot is up at Intrinsick. Check it out
“…Dear Dr. Hanover,
I am writing on behalf of the Octopus bimaculoides in your office aquarium whom you call Suzy. The water is too warm. Please reduce the temperature to 18℃. She would greatly appreciate it.
O’Grady sits in the armchair with the reading lamp on. The clock tells him it is 10:45, and the light from the window tells him it is morning. The armchair is new, bought just a few weeks ago, and so it puzzles him that the armrests are threadbare. They don’t make them like they used to. Continue reading Troubled Water
After 421 years guarding the graveyard without much happening, I got sleepy, so I took a nap. Big mistake.
I’m not sure how much time passed. What did I miss? Other than the usual, that is: vines knotting the graves, roots digging into earth and stone, moss growing, oak leaves rotting, worms and slugs and rabbits and foxes foraging for food, earthquakes and thunderstorms and bright sunny days too. Life and death and everything in between. Continue reading Everything in between
“It started with a routine-sounding letter from my health insurance company. I opened it quickly because I was in the mood for a snack, and there was a little picture of cherries on the lower right corner of the envelope indicating that they had used cherry-flavored paper, my favorite. I learned that I would need to get a full DNA sequencing done by the end of the year. Reasonable enough, I thought, as I tore off little pieces of the letter and let the sweet and sour cellulose dissolve on my tongue.”
“Good morning, Brother Chris. Your tomatoes are spectacular.”
“Praise be to God.”
“Would you like some help weeding?”
“Thank you, Brother Jacob, I would love some. My knees are killing me.”
“Are they? You always look so content here, working in your garden.”
“I am, in mind and spirit, but the body does have a tendency to complain.” Continue reading Pulling Weeds
Word of the day: tertiary, adj., of the third order, rank, stage, formation, etc.; third.
Okay, diary, get ready for this, I know I’ve been throwing a lot of poop your way lately, but today was actually a good day. I know. Weird.
It didn’t start out all fluffy bunnies and rainbows. There were no seats on the bus so I had to ask this girl to move her backpack, but she totally ignored me. She’s kind of a gangster, but she’s usually okay. She just turned her head and looked out the window, like I didn’t exist. Already feeling like a ghost over here! You don’t have to rub it in! I tried another seat, and this kid moved his backpack, but with this heavy sigh as if I was asking him to do my laundry. Continue reading Dear Diary
Yuri led an ordered life. He woke up at 7 am, and his breakfast always included half a grapefruit eaten with a serrated spoon. It took him 12½ minutes to bike to his job as a network security consultant and 13½ minutes to bike back (he lived uphill). The hour before bedtime was spent reading on the couch in his living room. At 11 pm he went to bed, and, because he slept soundly and didn’t dream, the time until 7 am the following morning didn’t exist for him.
Then Yuri got a cat…
Read the rest at Crack the Spine
“Excuse me, sir.”
“This is going to sound strange, but what year is this?”
“Not at all, it’s 2917. October 6th.”
Read the rest at Bartleby Snopes
“A boy adjusts the position of a box of tissues on his desk and sits cross-legged on his bed. It is a Sunday afternoon and he has nothing else to do. The door to his room is closed, and nobody will bother him before dinnertime. He has all afternoon to make the box of tissues move with his mind…”