Monday, December 8, 2014

865. I'm pretty sure Alec Baldwin owes me fifty dollars

Fame: that most important and honest of modern measurements.
I want to live in that world, to breathe that rarefied air.
That's why I loaned Alec Baldwin fifty dollars.
Either him, or a man on the street who looked a little like him and spoke with sufficient gravitas.

Friday, December 5, 2014

864. Variations on the word no

"Maybe we'll make love this weekend?" I asked over the folded edge of the newspaper.
"Maybe," she said.
She was digging at the edge of a grapefruit with a spoon.
"Maybe," she said again with a segment of grapefruit in her mouth.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

863. Mean City

When I was a boy, my sainted mother owned a pair of brass knuckles.
I can still remember them - the texture - when she'd press them against my face.
"Nobody likes a crybaby," she'd say.
The metal bites against my knuckles as I ball them up into a fist.

Thursday, November 27, 2014

862. We're the face of the revolution, darling

The fire blazed hot, hot, hot against the face of the girl with the pigtails.
She could feel the heat of her burning home right down to her insides.
When she smoothed the pleats of her dress, bits of ash scattered to the wind.
Her legs dangled absently, clanging against the metal of the robot's shoulder as they lumbered toward the city.

Monday, November 24, 2014

861. We're all buckled up, you and me

The girl beside me at the coffee shop was arty - if I'm using that right.
She carried a backpack like the one I'd owned in sixth grade.
It was green with several buckles.
I tried to strike up a conversation about the bag, but it didn't work.

Monday, November 3, 2014

860. The difference between saying it and meaning it

All hail the noble white lie.
These artful fallacies, these tasteful frauds are keepers of the peace.
They are the single civilizing force that keep all of us in friendly relations.
Because at the end of the day, there's nothing so dangerous as an honest man - like this one.

Friday, October 31, 2014

859. What we find

There was a single Cheerio under the refrigerator.
It was standing on its edge - if you can believe that.
He'd been laying on the floor for hours, staring through it like a window.
There were no answers on the other side.

Monday, September 22, 2014

858. Main Street Shibboleth

The town where I grew up had its own radio station - mostly Top 40 stuff.
When I grew up, I moved away.
Certain songs - Tubthumping, for example - were like lighthouses, welcoming me home on infrequent visits.
The station plays country music now.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

857. Pop rocks

The planet was uninhabited.
Its surface alternated between rivers of fire and giant rocks.
And yet, it was cool enough for humans.
The landing crew had hiked about three miles when the rocks started to explode.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

856. The story of everything

"This is the story of everything," he said to the two boys.
"Everything has a beginning."
He reached out an patted each of them on the head.
Looking at them fondly, he continued, "And everything has an end."