I’ll be sitting on a park bench, looking like a picture, a little old man with a little fuzzy hat. I’ll put my elbows on the back of the bench and tilt my head into the sun, like I used to, but my eyes will be rheumy and start to water, and my right handContinue reading “My Old Hands”
Tag Archives: Short stories
The Life of a Soda Bubble
I’m not one of those that come in a string-of-pearls line from a magical pinpoint at the bottom of an aluminum can or iced glass. I made it all the way to the stomach, and that’s where the real adventure is.
For a while, we did everything together. We slept late on a Saturday morning. Just at ten o’clock, the morning sun rose above the neighboring apartment building and slid blades of light through the venetian blinds. The blades of light cut across the bellies and arms of our naked bodies, letting us know that earlyContinue reading “We”
June we go to visit my Aunt Jenna in the country. I like it because of the pond nearby. It’s shaped like a battleship. Just like a battleship. One side is long and straight and then it curves up to a point, like the prow of a ship. And the other side has all theseContinue reading “Battleship”
You Are Thinking of Him
You’re reading a book now that he recommended. You use the tip of your thumb to hold your place as you gaze at a corner of the ceiling and thump the spine of the book on the arm of your easy-chair. He won’t have thought of that particular angle on that passage, and you areContinue reading “You Are Thinking of Him”