Isabella hated her name. She was named after her grandmother’s paternal grandmother. She was the fifth of 12 children and one of the few who survived. The name she knew was simply grasped by her parents as they had no other idea how to name yet another girl. After her …
I don’t remember life without her. Auntie was always there until, of course, I shot her. I was 18. The gun? It was hers. She kept two, a shot gun her son used to hunt deer with and the little handgun that she used to put away ‘destructive raccoons.’ I …
I was a disappointment to my parents. They never said so, but sometimes walking into a room, where I heard a whispering conversation seconds before and then an embarrassed silence after I walked in was clue enough. My mother was always the first to recover. “There you are, dear; your …
What, sanctions our thoughts? Rather, who sanctions our thoughts, right? I mean no harm. I’m not at all articulate, so my mother always said. She doesn’t say much now, thank goodness. Where was I? Sanctions? Sanctions. A political term now because most minds reflect our bodies; wide eyed, …
The word normal is overused. And, by the way, ‘normal,’ should in no way cause anyone a sense of well-being or security. In today’s world, normal means, ‘I have you in my clutches.’ Laugh, I don’t care. I just want a cup of coffee and I’m on my way. Yeah, …
Sure, after three kids, she gained some weight. And yeah, I missed the thin young woman; long shapely legs, straight golden blond hair, and breasts that stood out with no help from me or her clothes. As my girlfriend, she was uninhibited, as my wife; she was without shame, I’d …
An invitation is often wordless and in today’s world oh so very dangerous.
Vilmos is the most difficult. I must take special care with his character
“Michael, I’ve seen him. Your father. He was right, dear, he has returned. I’ve seen him, dear, and I know tomorrow he will come and speak to me.” She was right. He came, and I was waiting. My father was always a hard man, pushing me toward greater things, pushing me to leave my mark on the world.
Then the clock on her office wall stopped at 3:15 PM every day. She replaced it and that clock stopped every day at 3:15… every day. She took the clock down and didn’t put up another. Every day she noticed the clock at 3:15 PM. No matter where she was or what she was doing. There were days when she didn’t think of him at all until 3:15 PM.
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