"If you don't stop humming 'Leaving on a Jet Plane', I'm going to strangle you!"
Our first vacation in 5 years and already we were at each others' throats. I continued to hum as she dug through her carry-on for a book.
She sighed and in a wistful voice said "The beach, some sun, a palm tree. What could be better?" Reaching out, she patted my knee and turned to look anxiously a the departure board.
I put my hand on top of hers and squeezed. "Relax, they'll be fine by themselves. They're old enough to keep out of trouble."...
The room kept spinning for the delicate human. You could tell by the way it swayed in its place on the floor beneath the feet of the beast. It only had seconds to live before the creature dug into its chest cavity for meat. "M-make it quick..." the feeble meat-sack uttered in its primitive language.
The demon snickered in its own language and burrowed its snout into the stomach of the human, tossing blood-soaked pieces of security guard this way and that. The animal was a mad thing, unknown to any kingdom or phylum on the planet, Earth.
And it...
An old sepia photo can be a bullet. It can tear through the lineup of neurons, neatly lined up like socks on a bed. It can make you aware that you are your latest incarnation. That you have been here before.
A mother and her child. Doesn't that child look familiar? Who remembers his own birth? Especially when it was 70 years ago? Today I am 27. I have been 27 many times now, projecting myself a year into the future so that I could live as 27 for a year, then my past self projecting himself a year into...
"And now, a nice, juicy twist. That's it. Keep twisting. One final push! Aaaaand release. Other side, now. Raise your left hand in the air, look toward the ceiling. Now twist!"
Sweat dripping from my brow down to my neck down to my collar bone down to my underwear. Release. Downward dog.
"Chataranga! Keep going guys, you're doing great!"
Heaviness of covers, you tuck me in as you leave. I don't stir, I don't breathe. Your receding back.
"Now breathe in, and let it go."
There were mountains. There were hours to drive. Everything I measure, I measure it like...
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It started like any sunday morning, with coffee brewing and the literal show Sunday Morning on cbs when we decided to walk our 140-pound saint Brenard, and our smaller dog Casey down by the lake. We had Casey on the leash when Bella, our Saint Brenard, crashed through the brush and tumbled upon a deer that had bedded down. Casey fought her way off the leash and by the time we had found them the deer had gone into the water rather than to face bella. Our two excited dogs of course rushed right in after it
The Waves were...
When I took the photo it was still light. Tom threw his arms around me and twirled us both around, our shrieks and laughter echoed on the mountain. Ten minutes later he was dead. Torn to pieces by an unexpected pack of hungry wolves. None of them touched me. They circled, growling but left me alone. Even when I ran to the trees and attempted to climb, slipping back down the icy bark. Ignoring screams, snowballs I managed to throw. Dragging Tom's body away they left me alone to my grief, shock, sorrow, disbelief and paralysing fear.
Twist. Pull. Pull. Bop. Twist. Bop. Pass... Was she staring at me? I mean, it was my turn, but it felt like she was looking me directly in the eyes. Come on... Probably just a coincidence. All the others were watching me to, just like I'm watching her right now. Oh God, I'm watching her and it's not even her turn any more. Focus. You're up next. Pull. Pull. Pull. This too easy. Bop. Twist. Pass. Okay, now she's definitely staring at me. Was that a wink? Oh, no. Just had something in her eye. Damn, she's kinda crackin at...
"Bitch don't know how to swim. Bitch need to learn how to swim wit da sharks."
"What?" my Grandmother said.
"You see, whatchoo need he'ah is a metafough."
"A what?" she spluttered.
"A metafough!" he insisted.
We weren't in uptown anymore.
"I think what the kind doctor is trying to say is that it helps to use metaphor to explain your condition, Grandma," I said, waxing poetic to his accented jargon.
God love her, but my granny is a racist old bitch. Nobody would be more happy to see her kick that bucket more than me, were it not for...
"So, old woman, how do you cure Love at First Sight?"
The crone laughed like a deadman's rattle. "Ah, there's a thing. Well, if you were some maid, I'd say a kiss. Or to be truly rid of it, a marriage." She pronounced marriage 'marry-ahj' the old way of yore.
"Neither is possible. I'm already wed, and happily too, were it not for this accursed lust that's come over me."
"Tell me her name and her story." the wise one requested. Of course, she already knew the girl. The lovesick sow who'd pleaded for a love spell. Yet she listened...