Works
There is No Death in Finding Nemo
Phil opened his eyes to see glass just inches from his face. He looked left, then right. He rotated his eyeballs three hundred-sixty degrees. He saw glass in all directions. Although the glass was clear, he could see smudges, and the lip running along the top of the bowl. He felt disoriented. He looked down: … Continue reading
Nowhere Man
Ahead of me—far ahead—I saw my salvation: a blinking white neon light, its flashing rays stabbing into the darkness. M-O-T-E-L … M-O-T-E-L … M-O-T-E-L. I was driving to nowhere, from nowhere. From one mindless meeting to the next, selling something, I don’t rememberwhat. I had been driving all day and was lost. No GPS and no maps. Drenching rain poured down on my rental car, a gray Ford something-or-other, rain pouring so hard it washard to see down the road. All day, I’d seen nothing but cornfields. I wastired in my bones. Maybe it’s a Motel 6, I thought, and with their “we’ll leave the light on for you” slogan in my head, I pulled into the empty parking lot of the motel….Continue reading
The Buzz Bomb
The Nazis never did catch me. I was an explosives expert, and I was just too good for them. I could blast my way out of any situation, no matter how dire. I was seven or eight years old, growing up in the pretend war-torn streets of inner-city Boston. My friends and I were always playing war games. We were children of the Greatest Generation, after all, living out our foolish fantasies in the shadow of real heroes who had saved the world. Continue reading
Robust, woolly Howie Fine stood naked and peeing in the toilet of the en suite bathroom in his bungalow in the village of Grubsky. Howie didn’t know why he always loved the tinkling sound. There was something comforting, something so right about it. For those few, short, streaming moments, he could forget. Outside the bathroom window, little hailstones bounced off the frozen panes with a pleasing, persistent plink. Continue reading
Every Woman on the Planet
Dear Every Woman on The Planet, I noticed your Note To Strange Men. I felt a Connection. We aren’t friends on Facebook, but the algorithm keeps showing me your posts. Your Note To Strange Men said to stop, just stop trying to befriend you on FB with phony introductions, insincere compliments, and “scammy” likes of your profile photos. I don’t know about that. What I do know is that if you send me a friend request, I will bring you joy. I’m virile, but quite sensitive—even vulnerable. I never mansplain, always listen attentively, and I will satisfy your desires. You have desires, don’t you, Every Woman on the Planet? I am a Prince. A Prince with a Problem. Continue reading