Author Archives: sputterpub

Ornamentia (3 of 3)

Posted on August 8, 2013 by sputterpub

Mitch has made his way to them by now, and Natalie begins to simper, at least in Phoebe’s eyes. It isn’t jealousy. Phoebe isn’t gay, and if she were she wouldn’t want Natalie. No, even though one friend tried to … Continue reading →

Posted in Fiction | Leave a comment

Ornamentia (2 of 3)

Posted on August 7, 2013 by sputterpub

Phoebe has to return to the party. She’s some kind of co-hostess for her mateless friend. But there’s a reason she usually doesn’t give or go to parties, and it’s keeping her here for a few more minutes. She touches … Continue reading →

Posted in Fiction | Leave a comment

Ornamentia (1 of 3)

Posted on August 6, 2013 by sputterpub

Phoebe remembers being a Camp Fire Girl. Her name there was Netopu, pronounced phonetically and translated “makes friends,” but that phrase seemed to her as untrue as the achievements for which she was awarded ugly beads. She liked it that … Continue reading →

Posted in Fiction | Leave a comment

BFF

Posted on August 5, 2013 by sputterpub

The weight of friendship rests on me so lightly, sits so rightly on my heart, that I can carry it a hundred years. The bands we braid of self-respect delight me, hold me tight and let me start to range … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Breakfast

Posted on August 3, 2013 by sputterpub

The skin is firmly smooth against my touch, the color flushed in orange red or rose. There’s no aroma I detect as such until the flavor’s cut to court my nose. The surface first resists incisive teeth – I’m hungry, … Continue reading →

Posted in Food, Poetry | Leave a comment

Surprise

Posted on August 2, 2013 by sputterpub

An errand took me outside yesterday and into perfect Thursday afternoon. Of all the folks enjoying it, I’d say that most were jobless. So it seems that soon or even now we’ll recognize two types: the inside folks who labor … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Floss (Part 3 of 3)

Posted on August 1, 2013 by sputterpub

With the kids getting older and Carol not earning, I had to find a better-paying job. I fell into the extermination business for about seven years. I don’t know why I stayed in it so long; I hated it. But … Continue reading →

Posted in Fiction | Leave a comment

Floss (Part 2 of 3)

Posted on July 31, 2013 by sputterpub

Looking back on it now, I know there’s a momentum to life that no one warned me about. Teachers and TV shows and even my parents told me not to pressure myself, that there would be plenty of time to … Continue reading →

Posted in Fiction | Leave a comment

Floss (Part 1 of 3)

Posted on July 30, 2013 by sputterpub

Cornsilk is how her hair looked when I first met her. We were 16, and the century was 66 years old. Now we’re into a new millennium, and Carol’s hair isn’t long or silky any more. It’s still blonde. She … Continue reading →

Posted in Fiction | Leave a comment

Post-Modernism

Posted on July 29, 2013 by sputterpub

Remember peace and love and stringy hair? Insipid daisy-giving? Dancing gauze? Encounter groups and love-ins everywhere? The way the groups made every thought a cause? I recollect them with the same contempt engendered then by every boring pose; it seemed … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment