The Silence of the Jambs_Mondays_Milly's Old Man_The Memory of You
Catalog Guide:
The Silence of the Jambs
The Silence of the JambsAunt Lorelei was a mystery from my past. I was just a kid, but I distinctly remember my aunt and my mother arguing at my uncle’s funeral. That was the one and only time I had ever met her. Years later, it came as a shock to learn that she had passed away and willed her house to me. I lived halfway across the country and my job kept me so busy that I couldn’t go to inspect my house. Her lawyer was very accommodating and handled all of the paperwork by e-mail. That was 10 years ago. I wouldn’t be visiting the house for the first time now except that I had received a noti...
Mondays
I hadn’t been to work in weeks. I yawned as I pressed the start button on the coffee pot. As the familiar aroma met the air, my mind wandered to my daily commute and the monumental to-do list that awaited me. My co-worker Bill's last day was Friday. So not only will I be catching up on work that I missed while I was away but also committing to the work of two people until Bill’s replacement can start in one more week. My other co-worker and close friend Mandi asked me if I could pitch in for the goodbye party for Bill. They got him a cake, a card, and a bird watching book. I pitched in a few ...
Milly's Old Man
Milly’s Old Man“This is my worst nightmare, Mildred, the bank foreclosing on the cabin. Can you believe this? Me, Mr. Perfect. They call me that, you know. The boys in the plant. Every day at work they’d say, There goes Mr. Perfect. Even though they whispered, I heard them. At the water-cooler, in the break room, even on the floor, sometimes when the machines were not so loud, I could hear them. Look at Karl, the man with the perfect life, the perfect wife. He has a cabin on the lake too. Did you know that? I want what Mr. Perfect has. I heard them say this. Mr. Perfect, what will they say abo...
The Memory of You
Twww.onedoor.cche day was September 9th. My mother and I were in the car on the way to the cemetery, where we were going to visit my late father. She parked the car and we got out. We bought four carnations from the flower girl and walked to the grave. He was at the end of the cemetery, died seven years ago, strucked by blood cancer, also known as leukemia. His death was a shock to all of us, especially to my mother. I could never get close to him because he was always working and there was no time for me. That’s why I’m not very traumatized when I come here. I don’t have the memories that every child has w...