Author Archives: sputterpub

What’s Love Got To Do With It?

They were taking a walk, as usual. William and Angie walked whenever they were together. Often they had her dog with them, pulling on the leash even though the retriever was seven now and old enough to behave, but on … Continue reading →

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Insectance

A week ago the lazy flies appeared as if there were a carcass in the yard, but now I know they show up every year: obnoxious ugliness, but never hard to kill – a catalog can do the job, or … Continue reading →

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Murder Mystery

I’m not an ornithologist – I’ve friends who study birds with telescopic glee, but wings instead of hands won’t serve my ends, and caged bird eyes are freaked and panicky. I certainly appreciate their kind. I like the hawk and … Continue reading →

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Renaissance

My garden sparkles in the morning light, with forty shades of green amid the blues, the pinks, the purples, yellows: every height of bush in bloom in all the rainbow hues. Now lilies with the dahlias congregate, and nod at … Continue reading →

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Personal

A nearly single male of 48 who’s self-employed, caucasian, tall and fit, desires to convert his lonely state to something warmer and more intimate. I like to eat and drink and be outside, and smoking doesn’t bother me too much. … Continue reading →

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The Hole in the Doughnut

Most of the time we’re in sync with our friends and family and acquaintances, enough so that we can converse and communicate. But now and then we have a surreal encounter, where our assessment of the situation turns out to … Continue reading →

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Itinerary

I dropped my clock upon the floor last night as I was setting it to ring today, and now it isn’t marking minutes right, so I awoke with twenty gone away I thought I’d use. But I don’t need that … Continue reading →

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Showers

We hosted rain the second day of spring: a playful splash of water from the sky that wet the wood and spattered everything, impelling me to stay here where it’s dry and I’ve a fire burning gas to warm my … Continue reading →

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Dys Mis

I know that people live on different planes with sets at every level, type and kind, but nothing I’ve experienced explains why my sort is so difficult to find. There may be few, but still there must be some who … Continue reading →

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The Gloaming

The light of 6 pm invites my eyes to gaze unshielded toward the scene across my busy street. I try to analyze the glow that lays as soft as early moss, as gentle as the sound of water drops upon … Continue reading →

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