Tag: writing
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Griselda
While each of my family members had some role (and continue to have roles) in my life and impacted who I am as a person, it all began with Griselda. She was the one who officially kicked everything off, whether we were ready for the inciting incident or not. Because you see, our lives were…
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Bottom of the Well
It did not matter how I fell to the bottom of the well, what mattered was how I was to survive the ensuing days until I would hopefully be rescued. I had sent a carrier pigeon to the last of my remaining relatives, and I knew that I could trust the carrier pigeon. He had…
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Nine Bodies on the Floor
I counted the bodies on the floor, and it was actually a lower number than I would have expected. Enough pings had gone off and enough interference had ripped through the central stage that I was expecting it to at least be in the double digits. But no, more had gotten away than either Steven…
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Tag on the Papa Toe
He stood over the sink and tried to count how many teeth had been caught in the drain net, without actually having to remove the net. It was like guessing how many jellybeans were in a large glass jar at the county fair. He stood there with his hands in the pockets of his jeans,…
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Don’t Try to Measure the Ground from Here
It’s a sordid affair, but it’s the truth that when two opposing forces face each other, gather momentum, and then collide, glass is splintered everywhere and no one goes away unscathed. That much is true. That’s some sort of law from where I stand – law of motion, law of mass, whatever you want to…
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I’m Moving Out
Grandma had told me that it was really no problem, to think nothing of it. I was astounded by her generosity, but at this point I had no reason to be astounded. She had been known in circles for her generosity, in addition to her various eccentricities. It was raining slightly, dripping. Misty, but also…
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Take it Down a Few Pegs, Son
My old man would always tell me a specific phrase whenever I was acting up. Whenever I was shooting off my mouth, whenever I was growing hot underneath the collar, whenever I was itching for a fight that was clearly not mine to win. Whenever I would get into these states – and it was…
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