Posts tagged with the keyword: ‘short fiction’

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The Restaurant

The Restaurant
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As soon as she hears his key click, the sound of the bolt moving, and the door opening, she wipes her wet hands on her faded flowered apron and walks from the kitchen towards the front of their long narrow house in west London. The glass in the front door rattles against its scratchy wooden […]

Clip of Wing

Clip of Wing

I hadn’t seen Wing in perhaps four years, but he remembered me when I came last week and silently motioned me to his chair. I explained I had not come for a haircut this time but would like to hear his stories so I could write about him. He consented, but only to answer direct […]

Backyard Picnic

Backyard Picnic

This is not how it happened; it was starkly different. Velvety green evening, luminous white damask tablecloth spread on the dark grass. This summer evening is a little cool, children run and laugh as they ferry chilled plates of salad and cold sliced meats out of the bright kitchen door. In the warm light spilling […]

Forgiveness

Forgiveness

To everything but anguish the mind will soon adjust…Roger White   After a great wound no feeling comes A white hot pain settles upon you You stand in the fire of agony shivering “Forgive them Father, they know not what they do,” is a whispered voice, wrapped in cumulous clouds, Tributaries of feeling blocked, the […]

In Autumn

In Autumn

Janie starts insisting that we need two cords of wood to get us through the winter. We have lived in our wood-heated house in Waitsfield, Vermont under the green foothills of Glen Ellen Mountain all spring, summer, and early fall awaiting the birth of Janie’s baby. We moved here together so I could help her […]

May I…?

May I…?

May I Have This Last Dance, Mr. Banana Nose? I cannot remember not loathing Sunday school. And much of that loathing, more than likely, stemmed from the fact that I wasn’t a cool kid. I was as far from cool as a screaming tea kettle from a popsicle – a shy, socially awkward, irremediably klutzy, […]

Chiaroscuro

Chiaroscuro

At writing class at UCLA extension, I stare at figures on a table. A clay face figure on this table disturbs me. Its three clear blue eyes gaze out. “Who are we behind our eyes?” I used to ask that of Jeff when we hung out in the UCI cafeteria, Jeff, putting salt and  pepper […]

Writing Soup

Writing Soup

I am confused and bewildered in a house whose couches sprawl and sag and whose books give off musty odors as blonde, blue-eyed, white-toothed actresses sit together as on a bus of youth headed towards Pilates, thinking strength and prettiness will gift them the innate poem. I sit across the room near three older women […]

The Morning the Egg Exploded

The Morning the Egg Exploded

I am at my mother’s condo, staying with her for the foreseeable as she recovers from her second hip replacement. And, since these are early days and Mama is kind of loopy on pain meds, I am responsible for pretty much everything, from helping her in and out of bed and fetching her hearing aid […]

Through the Looking Glass

Through the Looking Glass

Twenty-four hours after surgery and it’s time now for me to clean and dress for the first time, in my home and on my own, the wound bequeathed to the back of my left ear. I stand before the bathroom mirror affixed to the medicine cabinet above the faux porcelain sink and stare. My bespectacled […]

Fiore

Flintridge Books

Colorado Street Bridge Party

Lyd and Mo Photography

Louis Jane Studios

Homage Pasadena

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