I knew about her in advance of course; the Hutchings Center had called before they released her to me for subsequent therapy. “Hyper-religiosity. No longer violent, but needs to talk more, and to a woman, I think,” the psychiatric nurse… Continue Reading
Elias never forgot the day. His mother sewed by the fire. His father oiled a saddle. He told the therapist, “I was twelve. I’d been ill. Measles. The fever shifted something. I remember all at once feeling my mother’s presence… Continue Reading
Anna drummed her fingers along the flour-covered counter and glanced at the old clock that hung on her wall. “Set a timer for 6:10,” she said. Timer set. How are you feeling today, Anna? “Just peachy,” she mumbled. That’s great!… Continue Reading
A deep breath. “I know why you keep me around. It’s so you have someone to hate. Because if you didn’t have me, you’d start hating yourself. You already do. You loathe who you are. You’ve been so busy building… Continue Reading
I watch these parents and their wild children while I clean up the trash and empty the bins. Not a job I enjoy, but Dr. Sanders says work and routines are important. Clyde Peeling’s Reptile Land is a place for… Continue Reading
I repainted each detail for Milo, that first evening. I described the rock growing in my throat, the sudden sense that the supermarket was dangerously big. I described rushing back to the Honda with a jellied barrier between the biting… Continue Reading
Mom always told me my blackberry pie tasted like hers. We’d both be bent at the waist, shoulders hunched, sturdily pushing rolling pins through flour-coated dough in the tiny kitchen. Heat would pool at the back of my neck and… Continue Reading
All I can remember is pitch blackness accompanied by an odd warmth. It felt close, unbearably so. The same warmth always comes. It comes but never goes. It lingers and becomes sickly sweet. Next comes the light — a bright,… Continue Reading
Getwright and I were in the DFAC one day — this was before deployment, pre-mob maybe. He looked over and said to me, And every year when the goslings hatch dad lets the hounds after them. Separate mother goose from… Continue Reading
The first time I threw a shoe at my shrink was right after he claimed I was “prone to fits of irrational behavior.” That was his opinion after a year of therapy. Considering his fee, I expected more than what… Continue Reading