Signs of Life

Signs of Life_resize

I don’t always find her. And the where of her is unpredictable. On those occasions when I don’t find her, I never know whether it’s her choice to remain hidden or whether she has simply abandoned certain places, finding them unsuitable in some way. The first time I found her always comes to mind with the kind of clarity attaching to events that reshape our lives in some fundamental way, as if the experience is permanently housed in its own moment of brilliant light where every little detail is illuminated. It was like that.

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Up There


The gloom began to fade as early morning sunlight filtered into the underground station.  It crouched on the far side of the tracks and waited for the first of today’s crowd to come streaming down the moving walkway.  It liked watching the crowd, the constant flow of shapes and sizes and colors.  It liked listening to the drone of the crowd’s constant chattering and muttering.

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The Man Who Met Manson

The man who met Manson sat down at the bar and ordered a scotch neat. He was a thin sort of man – thin build, thinning hair, thin lips. He left such an impression of thin that people would always say, “You know. That thin guy.” As if nothing else need be said. Indeed, no one had ever mentioned anything else that was memorable about him. Even his thinness faded from any given memory almost as soon as it took up residence. He was, apart from the thinness, completely nondescript. Continue reading “The Man Who Met Manson”

In the Garden

I have been walking for quite some time when I realize my thirst has grown to the point of urgency.  The landscape morphed again a while back and now includes a large number of trees.  The narrow, dirt path in front of me curves to the right.  I assume the next fresh water spring will appear around that bend but there is no way to be certain.  Though I’ve rarely been made to go without water or food for too long, there have been a few times when I thought I might pass out from the lack of one or both.  It’s unwise to take anything for granted here.  There is nothing to do but keep walking. Continue reading “In the Garden”

Something There Is…

I’m not sure exactly when it started.  The brick wall encircling my property winds through some uncultivated areas and though my intention was to walk the perimeter once a month, that intention was often suppressed by my sedentary nature.  All I can say is that I found the first breach in the wall a month ago when I stumbled over the bricks that had been removed, piled in a disorganized heap as if to mock my desire to keep the rabble out. Continue reading “Something There Is…”

Flash Finish

The preparations are complete.  A lovely art deco tray has been placed on top of the sideboard.  It holds a carafe of carefully mixed and chilled martinis, ready to pour into the two beautifully etched glasses he gave me one year for my birthday.  I’ve arranged a fancy little mold of pate and some English water crackers on a platter; also a plate of fresh fruit and brie.  All of his favorite things.  I’m wearing a slinky, sexy black dress.  My red shoes definitely qualify as fuck me pumps.  The gun is loaded and waiting for me in the drawer of the sideboard.  He will be here soon.

I’m ready. Continue reading “Flash Finish”