December 2010
8 posts
1 tag
I read trashy novels during Christmas vacation. No, it’s more like I get down to bidness. I’ve had years where I consumed a novel every day! But you don’t understand; I’ll read anything - young adult, mysteries, a short history of Islam, my father’s Shogun books or, worse, some dreadful thing inspired by a series created by Robert Ludlum. I am voracious yet completely undiscerning. This irritates...
I love being near an open window late at night, listening to the woods move about. In the winter, like tonight, they clink and crack.
When I was young, I would sometimes even fall asleep, all bundled up with my face on the windowsill. If I was lucky, the cold would wake me before anyone noticed. If not, my father would be bellowing obscenities at me about frostbite and heating costs. And, just:...
The Nay-BAH-ud
New England is unchanged. The forest is the same, the houses look the same, the radio still only plays classic rock. My father hoots over the Patriots in the other room. Tomorrow, I’m going to visit the sea.
Reason Number Whatever
I was making a point of critical importance, but my eye was caught by imagery and my voice trailed off, distracted the monitor a few feet away. A churning sea and swooping swords, rolling fields and desaturated blues, knights that moved like dancers, a montage of dark and sparkle. My mind emptied. It was irresistible.
“Narnia?” I whispered.
“That’s what I was thinking.” He replied.
The craft of...
1 tag
Lunchtime leftovers.
BEN: “Your box is pretty big, Ellen.”
BEE: “He’s right. You could fit a lot in there.”
ELLEN: “Yeah, I always try to eat only a little bit and then wait an hour or two and eat a little more and then wait an hour and eat some more.”
ALEXIS: “Mm, I like to prolong it over the course of the day, too. But wouldn’t a smaller box hold its contents more securely? Less sloshing around.”
BEN: “And with...
1 tag
“Are you dressing for the party?” I don’t even know why I’m asking. She’s over-tanned and leggy, the trailer-trash skank of the office; of course she’s dressing, probably something in white leather. We’re sitting in a conference room. It’s 8:47am and I’m wearing a brave smile.
She waves it off. “I’m going to wear a skirt, yeah. Are you?”
“I’m dressing to the nines.”
“Really?” Instant interest.
...