Around Here

"...she held up the bottle 3/4 gone and exclaimed, "We drank all this?!!" "No, sweetie, we used it on the fish!" Heh, guess she's more on the ball than expected. I do admire your honoring her sensibilities. Sometimes subterfuge is the better part of valor. I had a fondness, as a boy, for all things cursive. Pens, paper, inks. But mostly pens, which I think I intuited was a sacrament of the power of expression, probably with some phallic undercurrents. I haven't broached the subject with Evan. He rarely answer my emails. I should just dive in and broach it. Maybe if I suggest, say, a week this summer. I'd love to hang out at the old place for a bit. The seeds of Evan’s unraveling may always have been there. It started to spin out of control, from what I've been able to gather, when his depression went clinical and he took a buy out at the university, where he told me he was harassed. I remember him being exceptionally bright and perceptive. We ha...

T oo long at the fair? No, just asymmetrically supine in my hammock at fair River Park (not the lakeside beach this time), between a pair of sprawling sea grape trees. When at rest, my body instinctively seeks the tensioned serenity of the number four position, one leg bent, sole against knee, or tucked behind it, the "Hanged Man" in Tarot. I was thinking, having set aside the magazine I was reading, of the pair of eggs over easy I’d made for breakfast. What’s nicer than this? I’d wondered as fresh ground pepper drifted down and speckled both eggs and the yolk-yellow plate. Isn’t it the little things in life that make us happy, and stake claims in our memories? Some obscure and tender detail, too personal and idiosyncratic to convey, or a quirky moment of lame humor that only the two of you could appreciate, and that you always recall with a surging smile... A peripheral disturbance caught my attention. A pair of young families, a busty lass and her poetic friend or...