On a clear day, the basement flooded. We had no sump pump. “I’ll siphon it,” Uncle Ernie said, grabbing a hose. He stuck one end through the hopper and the other into his mouth. Ma said, “That hose has been lying in the garden all summer. No telling what might’ve crawled inside.” Ernie’s eyes widened. … Continue reading A Drabble: Uncle Ernie
Original Pub: Plains Song Review Volume VII 2005 A sun pillar in the middle of June. I-80 whispers underneath and a pine wind slips in through your half-open window, racing round inside my Toyota, trying to escape again, scattering the haze of sun-drenched vinyl and old Doritos. And, straight ahead, that improbable, fugitive monument to … Continue reading Sterling
Original Pub: Paradigm Journal: The Jackson Issue Winter 2009 On John Reily's first day at the new school in rural Nebraska, Mrs. Clarkson stood him before the third grade class and introduced him to the silent room. When she asked him to tell the class where he was from, John said, "I'm from Colorahdo." His … Continue reading John’s Germs
Do you want me to hold your hand? I asked her. No. I can do it by myself. The hole was just wide enough for two to lie side by side. When she was comfortable, she looked up at the blue rectangle of sky for the last time. See you tomorrow, she said.
Last night, Nightlight Podcast tweeted the awesome writing prompt: "The wind carried more than a chill to the air." I attempted to tweet a response, which became a hot mess because I suck at Twitter. Anyhow, this was my response: Unseen and unfelt, we passed at night through your windows, your crawlspaces, your mail slots. Carried … Continue reading The wind carried more than a chill to the air. (a Nightlight Podcast writing prompt)