Cleaning out my closet_The Ironist_THE OLD MAN AND THE CHALET_Bookless In Seattle
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Cleaning out my closet
My daily struggle between hope and inertia begins. Placing a small bet on hope, I get out of bed. Standing in my flannel nightgown in front of the full-length mirror I smooth down the left side of my collar until it is perfectly smooth. Next, I straighten each pearl button. The last button refuses to stay upright, I yank it off. I throw it at the wall, leaving a small chip in the wallboard. I pull my nightgown over my head, and toss it on the floor. I go into the bathroom and stare at my faded eyes, crows feet, the permanent frown. Throwing back my shoulders, I begin my Friday speech.“YOU can ...
The Ironist
I see someone now I see every day, though he may not know it. I may not know it. That is to say, we are the same, though we may not know it. I see him in the mirror.And yet, I'm not looking into a mirror, but across a street. It's New York. Cars. Buildings. Noise.The man has bags, and bags in bags, all empty with his stuff. He pushes a rickety grocery cart. Step. Step. Step. A part of his ripped shirt swings from his hip and scrapes the sidewalk. Ground Zero behind him. Twin tragedies.A brown banana falls from his pocket. Maybe he was going to eat it. Maybe he waited too long when it looked al...
THE OLD MAN AND THE CHALET
THE OLD MAN AND THE CHALET[Note: Two sounds predominate in this story: the crackling of the fire inside the house and the howling of the wind outside the house. They also predominated during the writing of the story: the fire at Relaxing Fireplace Sounds - Burning Fireplace & Crackling Fire Sounds (NO MUSIC) - Bing video; and the wind at Whining Wind Sound Effects | Soundsnap. The reader might find the reading of the story enhanced by doing the same.]The chalet stood in a small clearing, dwarfed by tall pines. It was an A-frame, so that the snow, instead of piling up on the roof, slid down www.onedoor.ccits...
Bookless In Seattle
"I'm here to get my book," Melissa Watson said as the man opened the front door to his home. The man stood in the darkened entryway of the house in the Greenwood neighborhood in north Seattle, holding the door as Melissa started to push the door open. He stopped the door with his foot and looked at the intruder moving out of the diffused daylight and closer to the threshold. He reached for a light switch with his free hand and seemed to recognize the woman pushing the door was not a stranger."Maybe you should stop right there," he said as Melissa started to walk past him. "I've not seen you in...