April 2011
30 posts
No. 161
My dearest,
News indeed! And you waited half the letter to tell me! Now I have another reason to sort this business out quickly. Honest, I never expected to have to travel all the way to the city to petition for payment. The others say that I have a good chance without my foot, and I can prove it was lost defending an officer. I still haven’t found Captain Asgaard, but I may not need his...
March 2011
31 posts
No. 160
Dear Niels,
It has snowed again, and with what vigor! I went outside only long enough to fetch an armful of wood, and when I came back in I could peel the snow off my front in strips. All I can do now is wait and pray the sun comes back. I’m glad I hadn’t planted those lilies-of-the-valley you brought me back for Christmas yet - the seeds are still where you hid them, on the...
No. 159
Eighteen Clouds felt like his sister had looked the day she had been crawling around out of sight and eaten whole handfuls of moonseeds - that is to say, he felt confused, guilty, and very ill. Not because of a bad plant; Eighteen Clouds knew plants. Indeed, it looked as if he might have known a bit too much about plants and not quite enough about people.
He had just wanted something to tend. His...
No. 158
She’s got black boots up to her knees, leather and classy and exactly the kind of footwear I pined for when I was ten and already had feet bigger than most women’s shoes. Her purse matches the boots. It’s a rather somber outfit she’s got on - dark jeans, a black jacket, black accessories, and a face that doesn’t exactly brighten up the ensemble. I think she may be...
No. 157
The sun rises.
Presently, Stella wakes to find, for the first time in thirteen years, an empty bowl. She relocates to the arm of the sofa and falls back into irritated slumber. It is many days before she is able to force her way outdoors, at which point raw hunger has driven everything but hunting instincts from her mind. She does not wonder why her food supply disappeared suddenly.
All around...
No. 156
Quite far from where we live, there was once a village that went about its daily business with extraordinary care and goodwill, respecting the jungle whose edge it hugged and looking after creatures large and small. The denizens of this jungle met one day to discuss how to return the villagers’ favors.
“I have heard them cry for lack of water,” said the elephant.
“I have...
No. 155
He’s the kind of guy who gets upset about poor audio quality. Hipsters piss him off. He says things like “if your playback format is affected by the voltage of the power company, then it’s garbage” - not that he doesn’t love vinyl, he just makes no bones about telling what he thinks of its precision and dependability. “It’s anyone’s guess what a...
No. 154
“What color was love?” It’s on the tip of my tongue, really, I almost have it. It was something nice, right, but sort of scary and not like anything you’d seen before? Was that it? Or am I thinking of paradigm shifts? I guess they’re related.
“I don’t remember.”
Don’t give me that. You just don’t want to tell me. I know how you like to...
No. 153
“Ho hum.”
“Is this the end of all things?” She pulled her earlobe nervously. Baffling times, these.
“Presumably.” He didn’t look fazed. “I can’t imagine why else horses, three-legged stools, and turquoise have all vanished. Which do you think will end first, life or death?”
The question didn’t sit well with her frazzled mind....
No. 152
In the beginning, there was Oya, the song of three parts: the high, the low, and that which is in between. These parts moved together, and in their wake they left their melodies. The low became dense and it was the earth, the high became diffuse and it was the sky, and that which is in between remained in between and it was the water.
The earth, the sky, and the water had life in them such that...
No. 151
“Hi.” Short black curls under the hair net, a welcoming smile and friendly green eyes.
“Hey! Could I have the pesto penne, please?” Upbeat tone of voice, bouncy gait, simple pleasure in the spontaneous alliteration. “…What?”
Laughter. “Nothing, nothing. Yes.” A plate destined to hold pasta in the near future.
“Why are you...
No. 150
I’d love to be a whisper. I’d love to be quiet and not have to travel far; I’d love to carry messages not meant for all the world to hear.
I’d love to be a shout, to be enormous and public and happy. I’d love to be an open dispatch to everyone within earshot, emanating from the top of the tallest tower around.
I’d love to be a growl and pounce into ears with...
No. 149
How to be a Gentleman at Social Dances: A Lesson in Three Parts
Part I: Make your partner comfortable!
The one guy I particularly enjoy dancing with, I seek out because dancing with him feels like coming home. We never pair up until the music is on the verge of running out, with fatigue wrapping itself around my legs and ache soaking into my feet, but I don’t mind; he has the most...
No. 148
(After a song by the superb Bishop Allen)
I had ducked out of the rain into Maria’s wedding day, and I sat there with some friends and with some family, and I was happy. Lucy plopped her butt down right by my pew and grinned with me. It crossed my mind that having a tail to wag would be a great asset in expressing contentment and appreciation without drawing attention to myself; I envied...
No. 147
(After a song by the wonderful Pomplamoose)
Sorting all the lights and darks to make sure our love won’t lose that spark on laundry day when I didn’t even get through half of my To Do List - you really didn’t have to. But you did anyway.
Taking funny pictures (of yourself, the dog, us together) and putting them up (on the bathroom mirror, over the kitchen sink, on my...
No. 146
(After a song by the excellent Kings of Convenience)
You called me after midnight - it must have been three years since we last spoke. I tried to remember your face, but it took me longer than I’d like to admit, and it distracted me more from your story than I’d like to admit. It was late and you were talking too fast, so I asked you to come over. Within half an hour, you were at my...
No. 145
(This is a response to a post on helio365isms’ brother blog.)
There are lots of sounds. The sun is too bright in his eyes, in the splashing puddles, in the storefront windows, and there are lots of sounds.
The wrong bus ambles down the thoroughfare and stops close enough for its passengers to purposely ignore him. He slides around in the outline of negative space traced by their blank...
No. 144
Let me preface what follows by saying that a surprising amount of encouragement and collaboration went into the topic of this post.
Me: I’m starting to get real tired of this blog-a-day thing.
Roommate 1: Write a blog about that!
Me: Oooh, meta. I like it.
Roommate 2: Man, meta would be the first thing I’d blog about. My first posts would all be “I’m blogging....
No. 143
I was asked today what my goal in life is. I replied, “I am aiming to have been happy and spread joy, and to leave things a little better than I found them.”
I have no plan for actualizing this (though I’ve been doing a pretty decent job so far without even meaning to), and I have a lot of lesser goals I’d also like to accomplish, so I’m not sure whether I think...
No. 142
Jazz: America’s classical music.
For the first time in my life, I heard a stellar jazz ensemble rock the crap out of some seriously jammin’ tunes tonight. I scribbled my thoughts and reactions down while I listened, and several threads keep reappearing among the general wash of “holy smokes these cats are sick!”
Firstly, most of the guys on that stage didn’t really...
