Author Archives: sputterpub

Scales (Part 2 of 2)

Alan can feel her respiration slow over the next few minutes. She has always been a good sleeper, she’s better at it when she’s depressed, and she’s been under treatment for depression for a couple of years. She is soon … Continue reading →

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Scales (Part 1 of 2)

Alan is 50. There was an adage when he was 20 about not trusting anyone over 30, and that saying is now more than 30 years old. He has just finished watching a documentary on PBS about the 60s. He … Continue reading →

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Inside Biking

This morning as I pedaled on my bike, the music pumping rhythm in my head and coffee by my side the way I like my early exercise, the while I sped my body through that working half an hour, I … Continue reading →

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Being (T)here

I like to walk a visit to a place, acquaint my feet and legs with its terrain, inhale its air, examine every face, and let its ambience itself explain. I don’t care overmuch about the food and I don’t want … Continue reading →

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Rosemary’s Maybe (End)

Rick poor Rick is the victim of a beautiful narcissistic mother. Her name was Tammy, she was actually born in Tennessee, and she had six husbands before settling into her current cranky dowagerhood. Her marriages took her and her boy … Continue reading →

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Rosemary’s Maybe (Middle)

Sex would be fun, Rosemary thinks. Rick would be fun. He’s grown a little plump and more suburban, but he still laughs well. He’s surprisingly nervous, she knows. He has an acid stomach and hand rashes. He’ll ever be married … Continue reading →

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Rosemary’s Maybe (Beginning)

It’s taking her forever to figure out her life. Rosemary is more than half-way through her expected span. She likes to think she has been paying attention. Most of the time she feels like she’s making her way with her … Continue reading →

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Eating Disorder

“If only I could…” “You’re not old enough.” “But all I really want…” “You’ll have to wait.” More singular than Beauty’s rose and tough as diamonds to obtain, I dedicate intelligence to choosing strategy and tactics so my body will … Continue reading →

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Sabbatical

Today is for recovery and rest. I dedicate the daylight to my fix. I’ll hold the dying dog against my chest whose mess I rose to clean – four forty-six this morning: dire sound before the birds. She’s dreaming now … Continue reading →

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Exercise

I used to be a sedentary child. My father called me vegetable, the noun both apt and mean, for though my thoughts were wild, ranging fantasies, I hunkered down inside my room, declined activities, and read and ate and dreamed … Continue reading →

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