My mother toils under the assumption that she is beautifully imperfect but the world should be perfect. She reacts to news like a small child. Living in the moment with the belief that what is going on now will be what goes on forever. I am her child and I am the same.

We slump together from depression to remission, my mother and I. We stay on the couch for days at a time drinking wine, eating Oreos, and watching reality television. Then Mom gets an alimony check or I finally land a job interview and the fever breaks. We...

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Deluxe hotel, the brochure said. Apartment sized-rooms. You get your own little kitchen and living room and bedroom. A slightly smaller, more luxurious, home away from home.

The brochure didn't say anything about being woken up in the middle of the night by panicked pounding on the door.

I swung my feet over the side, and moved over the thick carpet to the door. I rubbed the sleep away from one eye and then put it to the spyhole. The pounding had stopped and I saw her, small and naked and covered in streaking blood. She slid slowly down the...

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The car stalled. The roads were half washed out and the rain pounded like a blacksmith's hammer on the hood. The storms began a few days ago, but before that it had been a dry summer. After the first downpour, people started smiling and stopped fanning their faces. Life strained under the drops in vegetable and flower gardens.

After the first whole nights of dark heavy clouds, the constant grumble of thunder, people were still trying to be positive. Good for the forests, dry as tinder, they'd say. The river was too low anyway.

After a week and flooded basements,...

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OK guys. Calm down. Yes, I am standing on the edge of a cliff. No, I am not contemplating suicide.

For a start, my life is worth living. I have a new girlfriend, a great job, an apartment with a mortgage and a loving family. I don't drink and I only smoke after meals.

So, what am I doing here?

I am thinking of my future and of the choices I need to make. Like today, when I phoned my girlfriend (gorgeous, blonde and randy) and she said she thought it was time for commitment. But am I ready for...

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Capriciously, I repudiated the sky and all its lighting and thunder, snow and rain, and changing colors.

The paradigm wasn't there. Or was it?

Well, if it wasn't and if it were grounded by gravity, then so many Big Things are just frivolous.

Like love.

And losing a lover.

And even being born here, gasping for breath at first, and fighting through a mob just to climb some ranks and "make it." And those were the Big Things, too.

The paradigm here can't hold such Big Things if it was made to only hold such small, ambiguous entities like eating,...

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"Grandpop's teeth didn't look like that."

"How do you know?"

"Because mom always said you got his teeth. Do your teeth look like that?"

"Maybe after they'd been in the ground for fifty years."

"Not even. Look at the length of them."

"No, teeth keep growing after you die."

"That's nails, dummy. And they have to be attached still. You think teeth keep growing if they're just loose like this?"

"Who can say?"

"You know who would know?"

"Yeah, but she can't exactly tell us, now can she?"

"Well, she'd know for sure."

"Grandma's probably the one who did it...

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Lange onboard sweating it out, Lange onboard getting cold grits, Lange in his bunk in those pitiful few hours to himself when he could think on his home, on the vast seas between him and it. Reciting lines--fragments--from those books his sister Rachel used to read aloud. The carousing above over and only flatulence angry growling left over.

And when the crew came alongside the _Steadfast_, and murdered the husband in plain sight of the wife and the girl, whom they took below, Lange mopped blood and chummed the sea with the husband's body for the sharks. It was then...

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The sepia girl smiled at me as I tucked her photograph back into my wallet.

I'd found it several years ago, inside a book in a box on a table at a garage sale. I hadn't ended up buying anything from the sale, but I'd taken the photo. I suppose you could say it was stealing, but I've never thought about it that way.

She seemed lonely. I was just taking her from a life spent between pages on the Ottoman Empire, with me. I travel a lot, and a part of me wanted her to see the world.

I...

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Let's play a little word association game. I'll start. Are you ready for the word? I'll wait.
Ready now? Okay.
Potatoes.
No, now you say something else. Let's try again.
Potatoes.
No, see, you just repeated my word again. This isn't an echo game, you're not supposed to be the Grand Canyon. Let's try again.
Potatoes.
Okay, seriously, say what comes to mind when I say the word potatoes! I know, obviously the word potatoes comes to mind, but you have to say something else. Because that's how the game works! Come on, son, you're better than this!
What's that?...

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"I'm falling in love with her."

"Oh, that's nice, that really is." She watched him sit up, get up, finding his clothes. "I'm glad."

"That means that this stops."

She frowned. "What? Why?"

He turned to stare at her. "Why? Because this is cheating as it is, let alone -"

"This is just physical. Let her have the emotional and let me have the physical." She got out of bed, sauntering towards him, smirking when he turned away. "There's no reason to stop."

"I really feel something for her. I don't want to hurt her."

"You aren't hurting her. She'll...

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