Huh?
Welcome to the inside of my mind. Sorry for the clutter. While in the realm of nonfiction, let me just say memory is a lousy filer. To the best of my recollections the following actually happened. Hopefully none of it will hold up in court, being hearsay from an unreliable witness.
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The Demon Concessionaire of 12th Avenue South
A Penny Dreadful One year, as a birthday or Xmas gift, I received a small popcorn machine. I was around 8. It was just like a mini movie theater version, fronted with clear plastic doors, a hinged popper & lid, a compartment to dump the popped corn below, a scoop & about 200 tiny red…
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E-I-E-I-O at Pee-wee’s Playhouse
It was a gradual process getting accustomed to the farmyard sounds here. The chickens’ favorite hang-out, in the huge rhododendron just outside a bathroom of the house, was filled one morning with their preening & clucks. Availing myself of the facilities, I heard sudden loud cackling. It’s disconcerting to have a laugh track accompany one…
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Bloodslinger:
A Tale of the West Ever have a neighbor you don’t get along with? In this one place, I was surrounded on all sides. A couple of them detested me from the get-go. The few who took to me, the feeling wasn’t mutual. Perhaps the whole street was thus. I don’t know, since the ones…
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Forgive Us Our Trespasses
It’s been suggested by some biographers that various creative types are a superstitious lot. I take issue with that claim. Anyone who knows what it’s like to use the wrong tool for the job will understand. Here I sit writing with a (gasp!) ballpoint pen. I’m forced to do so because my real pen is…
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How the Dead Stole Christmas
It started like any brilliant idea starts– with a pile of sticks. & no, I’m not talking about burning someone at the stake. Although, in a way, the holiday is kinda foreshadowed by ritual sacrifice, a quasi-sin eater situation. Otherwise the birth of some random carpenter-turned-preacherman wouldn’t have been a cause for remembrance, let alone…
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Life in the Rent Lane
First time living solo I was 21. This was also my first experience with that strange breed known as landlords. I find a common thread is woven through the tapestry of individuals owning rental properties. It’s the sallow color of ‘get away with what you can,’ as opposed to the deep, solid hue of ‘fix…
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Huh? 