Home is my Quarantine_The House That Made Us_City of Prophets_Lavender Fields
Catalog Guide:
Home is my Quarantine
The day finally came. It was all over. “Ma’am, you don’t need to wear your mask anymore. You may take it off if you like.” A greeter at the local store who doesn’t know what it was like to grow up in my time. I am only 56 years old and I feel like I am 80. The pandemic seized to exist for 6 years now. But I still wear a mask everywhere out of habit. “Oh, thank you.” I tell the young man at the door.www.onedoor.cc My, how time has flown by. Kids are running around and there are no more masks. Everyone was living carefree with no wonder of the world. As I take off my mask, I have a flashback. “Ma’am, please...
The House That Made Us
TW: drug abuse The House That Made Us1970It hurt. Everything hurt. When we were kids, it was easy. We fell in love and life was simple. Now we are grown and everything is complicated. I wanted to stop her from leaving this house that we made a home. Stop her from walking away from the memories we shared together, but the words could not come out of my mouth. Sherrie had left, she was gone and all I had left of her was the smell of her hair on her pillow that she laid her head on every night next to me. We talked about the future and the three kids we would eventually have. Our dreams had been ...
City of Prophets
I just slept with a prostitute. The thought won’t leave my mind. I just slept with a prostitute. I just slept with a prostitute. It runs on a constant loop above which, in sharp jabs, the question How the hell did this happen, keeps piercing through, like radio static on a half-tuned channel. Try blinking, bubbles up a thought, that should help. I blink vigorously—she’s still sitting naked on the edge of the bed, distractedly smoking a cigarette, looking for something—gum? The blinking doesn’t help. The room strobes. I can’t tell if the lights are actually flickering or if I’m just blinking t...
Lavender Fields
Leonard Goldstein looked at people on the crowded train: Some writers, some bankers, some musicians (he could tell from their loud chatter about gigs they yearned to arrive at sooner than later). The woman sitting next to him was deeply immersed in her book and he could barely move, crammed between her and a rotund gentleman who was reading The New Yorker.Had to love public transportation in New York City. He didn’t want to budget for a car and wait in traffic for hours, so this was, indeed, his fate. ***Leonard stared at the clock in his cubicle in New York City: The lights blaring were givi...