Bang Bang_Over cooked .......?_Behind glass doors_Box of Secrets
Catalog Guide:
Bang Bang
Bang BangNot for the first time, I woke up in a sweat, covers wrapped around my torso and calves. I felt like an embryonic beast, trying to break out of a chrysalis, the vivid dream already fleeing away in all directions, leaving only trailing wisps. I latched onto one, an insubstantial puff, and held on as it went the way of deep sleep. I already knew this dream. It was the same recurring dream that had plagued me since childhood….We called him “Bang Bang.” He stood, taller than a baby elephant and just as broad, at the intersection of Willow and Main, catercorner from Alamo School. Early eac...
Over cooked .......?
Alec and Andy McManus routinely met and sat at the same table for their Sunday lunch. The elder brother Alec was a sheep farmer whose wife had left him seven years previously and who had long since delegated the arwww.onedoor.ccduous hill work, the shearing, and the spring dip to his two sons, Bob, and Colin. His personal role had matured to one of constant review and direction, which he combined with regular and conscientious libation by choosing The Hen and Chickens or The Bottle and Glass as the venue for his daily meetings with his boys. Now forty-five Andy had worked hard to establish himself as a sym...
Behind glass doors
The Days for Daze retirement home certainly lived up to its name. Everywhere Vicky looked, she found blank-eyed stares and drool dribbling from flaccid lips. She herself, sat in a stiff-backed armchair positioned by a window large enough to let her feel the idea of the sun on her skin. Days for Daze had been Vicky’s house for the last year and a half but it was far from a place she’d fondly call home. She stared down at her son’s takeaway coffee cup sat half drunken next to the one he’d brought her, which was drained to the very dregs. He’d drink all of his coffee too if he were forced to dri...
Box of Secrets
I open the wooden box that I brought back from my parents’ home. I have never seen this box before. It was hidden in my mother’s hope chest, under knitted baby clothes and blankets. I lift the latch and find brown envelopes full of old photographs. One picture falls out and I pick it up. The black and white photograph is faded, but I am still caught in their gaze. I wonder who they are, with the mountain lake behind them. Instinct makes me flip the picture over and I am rewarded by the faded ink script on the back. Fred and Bunny, Lake Annecy, France 1944、 My first thought is who would be cr...