Tag Archives: stream-of-consciousness

‘Theft by finding’

Posted on November 26, 2018 by

Sure, I was still the same but my face was starting to look smudged in those new photos where I looked older. The forehead exposed, the jaw gone slack, the eyes hollowed out and the skin, less color to it. … Continue reading →

Posted in humor, Memoir, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 17 Comments
Posted on November 22, 2018 by

November 22, 2018 (Thanksgiving). I went back in time to the chauffeur’s flat, that place we stayed in a remote corner of Scotland one Thanksgiving, unlike any other. Near some small, port town on the coast by the ferries over … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

“Fall back”

Posted on November 3, 2018 by

I got as close to the light as I could though it was all gray and not much to speak of, and there in the corner of the window a stink bug fanned the glass with a limp leg, and … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

‘Wax and wane’

Posted on October 30, 2018 by

By the time we got to the end of October I was done with it. The Halloween decals on the windows, the witches and skulls…it seemed to go on forever, like it should have been over by now. The skeleton … Continue reading →

Posted in death, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments
Posted on October 21, 2018 by

October 21, 2018 (Sunday) Muted mornings of fog, leaving for work in the 6 o’clock hour and not getting home until 5, wondering if it’s going to pay off, this new job. Dawn saw the bob cat again by the … Continue reading →

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments
Posted on October 19, 2018 by

To bait the fruit flies, all we need is apple cider vinegar mixed with Dawn dish soap poured in the bottom of a glass, fitted with a paper funnel, wrapped with tape. The fruit flies appear at the edge of … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, prose | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments
Posted on October 14, 2018 by

October 14, 2018 (Sunday) Sadly, I let myself get too annoyed often and it cut into my enjoyment of life. We rode in the Pilot to the pumpkin patch, all six of us, and I reminded Loren and Lily to … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 27 Comments