I'll Be Seeing You
Julia wearily trudged to the victory garden in the back yard of her childhood home. An only child, she’d inherited the place when her parents died in a car wreck the previous year.
Dori paused to look up at the Big Top. From the pole which skewered the heart of the massive tent flapped the same bold scarlet flag she remembered. She shook her head and smiled at such a foolish notion. It must have been tattered and rotting in a landfill for at least twenty years. That’s how long it had been since the slender, dark-haired woman had allowed herself to think of her life as a circus performer.
Genny lived with her dog Henry. He was a big old goofball whose main talent was getting underfoot. Although a Golden Retriever, when people asked about his breed Genny told them he was a kangaroo dog. This puzzled them, but she couldn’t be concerned that their grasp of the obvious seemed to be lacking. Henry weighed in at 70 pounds and jumped up on her so often she felt as if she should be wearing boxing gloves.
“Every spring we visited my grandparents’ home nestled in the center of the dense pine woods of east Texas. We lived on the Gulf coast and the four-hour drive showcased an incredible diversity of landscapes within our home state.
The key to survival is cats. Nobody listened to me back in the good old days when all I had to worry about was paying the Internet bill and still have enough left over to eat. Fucking Time Warner Cable. Let’s see you collect that $237.48 I still owe you now.
It Ain't Funny
From the darkest corner of the lounge, Sid raised the glass of house bourbon to trembling lips, took a swig and watched his best friend die. Again.
A designated day to honor fathers is a fine idea, unless you don’t have one anymore. My father died in 2003, in a way so rare and stupid that a reporter from a local news station interviewed my mother about it. Dad contracted West Nile Virus and died from complications associated with the mosquito-borne virus. Mom did the interview as a public service, which was incredibly brave of her after what she’d been through for eleven long days.
The citrine moon frowns before a scattering of wry stars. Ever the fool and often rebuked, I make a vain wish. The blood moon mocks my plea with scorn and a wink