Monthly Archives: May 2015

Blindfold

The sprouting grass is soft beneath my feet, receptive, squeaky-vivid, bending, bright. And gentle is the asphalt of the street I walk across, ignoring every sight. The air is like a washcloth on my brow, my cheeks, my throat: that … Continue reading

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Sweet (Part 2 of 2)

The cascade of their insistence and my defiance only got worse over the next 10 years. She pummeled me with epithets like lazy, and he restricted my choices owing to what he saw as my lack of commitment and common … Continue reading

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Sweet (Part 1 of 2)

Sweet? Sweet? I’ll be damned if I’ll be sweet. That’s all my parents wanted of me, as early as I can remember. So it’s the last thing I’ll give them. For the longest time I found no fault with them. … Continue reading

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El Niño 1998

Benign the weather god has been to me who sent the humid infant to demand no tribute dearer than a twisted knee. It lets my rotten-floored garage withstand the cataracts of Codornices Creek and daily squalls don’t penetrate my panes. … Continue reading

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Editorial (2)

Aroma wreathed around my neck, against my cheeks, upon my brow: the talcum scent of new wisteria encircled tensed impelling calves, caressed my arms and spent itself on canted slabs of sidewalk, curbs with stenciled numbers, gutters filled with spume … Continue reading

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Mercury

Apparently you act by tacit rules that everyone has memorized but me, as if you all attended secret schools of age- and gender-based propriety. A manly woman or a childish sage can’t find examples of the adverse stroke across the … Continue reading

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M.O.M. (3 of 3)

Then Merle became agitated under a strong impulse. It began when she read a news story about the Marshall Islands. Although many have chosen to disbelieve the calculations about global warming, those small Central Pacific islands are already becoming tinier … Continue reading

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M.O.M. (2 of 3)

I’ve known women who didn’t want children because they’d been the oldest of a large brood; they’d already done the job. And I’ve known a pathetic few who had such a toxic relationship with their own mothers that they wouldn’t … Continue reading

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M.O.M. (1 of 3)

Merle makes a big deal about everyone’s name but her own. She finds significance in Oz, she lectures on Lazlo, she validates Vyvyan. But she never tells her full name if she can avoid it, and she always says that … Continue reading

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Discord

The smoke is laminating through the air in horizontal zones of grayish white that sting my eyes and dry my throat and tear to streaks the softness of the evening light. The music thrums like weapons in my ears. Competing … Continue reading

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