My division vice-president leaned back into a chair more fit for a throne room than an office. Fredric King’s well-tailored, charcoal grey suit set off his two-hundred dollar purple tie and corporate hair. The MBA diploma dominated one wall of… Continue Reading
The ticketing agent looked at me, then down at Perceval, then back at me. Her eyebrows edged up toward her hairline and she opened her mouth. I handed her a small white business card. I am a Service Animal and… Continue Reading
Epiphany: I need lemons. A tumble of lemons, a volcano of fresh explosive citrus, the obese mamas with that extraterrestrial shine, not those dinky rough-hide goblins lurking at the bottom of produce boxes. Fifty will do, I think. No, seventy;… Continue Reading
The Louvre is not Costco but sometimes it is. Entering quickly through the Rue Rivoli Richelieu side entrance using my museum pass instead of buying a ticket was a source of infinite joy that would last me for days. Before… Continue Reading
Even in the dead of night, my eyes do not falter from the nightstand beside of my bed, where my phone lies dormant. Checking it only confirms that it’s still 1:17 A.M. My mind shuns away any hope of sleep.… Continue Reading
“So… is it true what they say about redheads?” I noticed him when he first walked into the bar. I don’t mean that in a “he walked through the door and my heart skipped a beat” kind of way. He… Continue Reading
The characters in my first novel refuse to be written; they think only of themselves, never of me. They keep their distance, and their own counsel. I think it’s unbecoming, really, in fictional characters, to be so standoffish — unless… Continue Reading
On the tour boat Funliner, eighty-seven children screamed. “I wish they wouldn’t do that,” Captain Charles said. “The screams echo under the bridges,” Jimmy, the deckhand, answered. “They like the echo.” “It’s annoying. It puts me on edge.” “Plus, they… Continue Reading
Ms. Alice FoyBerkshire OH 45044 Dear Ms. Foy, I’m writing in reply to the multiple obscene comments you’ve left on our company’s Testimonials page as well as the scorched-earth social media campaign that you’ve undertaken against us in the weeks… Continue Reading
There is a round man, and every day he drinks three long-necks of Bintang from the same white sun lounge on the black sands of Echo Beach. I monitor him from a subtle five lounges down the row because the… Continue Reading