Brain Fjords
Some of the fissures in my aging brain are actually ever-widening fjords—none scenic—and all for sucking in whatever trivial factoid is just on the tip of my tongue, ready to … Continue reading
Darla’s Ashes
The four of us gathered at the river’s edge, and, each with a scoop of fine ash the color of an oyster shell, released Darla into the water. Her last … Continue reading
Darla
Darla and I have been friends since seventh grade—our last names both began with “W,” putting us together in the back of homeroom. My other friends at the … Continue reading
New York! Just like I Pictured it. Sorta.
Posted here on Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood Stepping outside the slightly threadbare art deco hotel lobby—which I refused to perceive as anything but Busby Berkeley glamorous—I melded into the midtown … Continue reading
OC – DC
The older I get, the more OCD’d I get. Before the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders shone a clinical light on our brain tickings, the phrase “set in … Continue reading
Dog Day Afternoons
Each aging generation’s lament will take its turn occupying a front row seat in the Theatre of Memory, and so mine has squatted, seemingly for the long haul. Nothing reminds … Continue reading
