Vespers tonight was more beautiful than usual. Swami stopped in the corridor afterwards and waited for us to catch up. “Have some cookies,” he said, and held out one for each of us. We said thank you. I carried mine but couldn’t eat it–the cookies always have chocolate–and gave it to Erik by the car.… Read More »
Laura-Marie Taylor a rattlesnake did its rattlesnake dance A rattlesnake did its rattlesnake dance in the clearing, but it had no markings. It was just tan. So we gathered six gifts for the medicine woman, three from each of us. The first I presented: a small scarlet pipe. She accepted. The second was a Rattlesnake… Read More »
I We were with astronomer John Dobson. He was lying on the ground with his head in my lap. I was stroking his long, gray hair. I said, “You don’t remember us, but we remember you.” I told him I loved him. Erik was sitting at John Dobson’s feet, asking him questions about astronomy. II… Read More »
I got a call tonight from this Mormon woman who sounded about my age, trying to recruit me to the church of latter-day saints, and she was really really nice, enough to make me cry, which everything is making me do today. She 100% reminded me of this friend I had in high school named… Read More »
Laura-Marie Taylor new giant I am becoming so tall no one will recognize me when we go a-caroling.
by Erik Lundgren I’m sure you noticed my hat. Go ahead and take a good look at it. Almost all people stare at my hat. I once first realized that a man was blind by noticing that he wasn’t staring at my hat. Children giggle and exclaim about my hat in too-loud-a-voice to their parents,… Read More »
We’re not good friends. If I don’t buy him some books, I’m going to feel crappy, but if I do, I’ll still feel crappy, so I’m in a bad position. Anyone should be allowed to ask for anything, and I should be strong enough to feel okay with a “yes” or “no,” but I’m not.… Read More »
Laura-Marie Taylor ghost The dead man who looks for his wife could make you cry, his teenaged daughter beside him on the buggy-seat. The husband-dad goes up to the farmhouse after getting directions in town for maybe the hundredth time. “Is Mrs. Ruggs here?” he asks the woman who opens the door. “No, no one… Read More »
Is suicide the ultimate in selfishness, or is a person left without a choice? When they get so sick— hitting bottom, and no one can help. I tend to think about the family, who has to clean all that shit up. No matter how well-intentioned you are, the kids aren’t going to understand why you… Read More »
I compared six clowns who all looked the same. I checked their ears and eye-wrinkles then counted the polka- dots on their hats. It took my wife to tell me, “You’re a lunatic. Four is missing a bowtie.” My career as a Mensa strategist is over!