Snuck out last night to meet at our usual spot — for one last goodbye

Room For Rent

The Daily Post Last month’s editorial page lay rumpled on my floor. Its letters graying and damp-wrinkled, edges curling upward. Broken shells that once held sunflower seeds piled in one corner and a plastic mirror with a silenced bell in the other. How that bell drove me crazy with its incessant, cheap-metal jingle! In retrospect,…

Universal Vegetation

The Daily Post   “Mom? Dad?” Sprout asked. “Who’s the little runt next to me?” “Oh, that’s your sibling,” Dad answered. “My what?” “Your sibling. You know, a baby brother or sister.” “It sure doesn’t look like us,” Sprout observed. “Are you sure it’s ours?” “Of course, dear,” Mom replied. “Give it some time. You’ll see.” “I hope…


Darkness fell like sin that N’awlins Saturday night. Nobody seen nothin’.  

Precious & Grace

The Daily Post “The Master says we should do something meaningful every day—something memorable that makes an impact,” Grace explained. “Ah, but ‘meaningful’ is subjective,” Precious grinned. “Razor blades in candy bars, or cinder blocks thrown from the overpass?” “Why not both?” “Indeed,” Precious agreed. “Why not both? Maybe we’ll get extra credit!”  

Share Your World | 7/10

How do you like to spend a rainy day? Curled up in bed with a good book, or on my computer writing a good book. List at least five favorite treats. (They do not have to be sugary). Raiding the Tattered Cover bookstore Raiding ULTA and/or Sephora Licorice ice cream Good guacamole That’s all I…

49 1/2

The Daily Post It was fifty years ago today that Candyce and Larry were married. Larry would describe the past half century as lacking. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he’d felt as though he’d missed out on something huge in marrying Candice. Even their twin girls, Constance and Prudence, were unremarkable….


The Daily Post Few people in town even remembered his real name. They knew him simply as “Loco.” Henry remembered, though. He remembered the frenzied beatings, the angry Pall Mall cigarette burns and living in relentless fear that his father — the esteemed Dr. Farquhar — would come at him again. And again. And again….


The Daily Post Rocco had never felt more alone in his life. Surrounded by silence, there were no sounds aside from the ones he made himself. He’d only made them to ensure he wasn’t deaf. Rocco wondered about the altitude. Would he die of a heart attack on the way down? Perhaps he’d impale himself on…