Baker. Frank Baker. 1976. String cheese. – “Look, it’s Frank! The string cheese guy!” “String cheese! Yeah!” Thunderous voices found Mr. Baker, and all he could do was smile with a wave of his hand. He was old now, not yet dead but making great strides towards his headstone. “Do you happen to have any…
Category: Short Stories
Stairs to a Gaze | Poem
Put down in a pasture Meandering tongues and hands Counting, counted, and counting on more Never once thought of again, never spoken henceforth. – A time and temple of thought and solitude, more of bitterness and less of love Now just a deserted place that no person should enter Wondering, wondered, and wondering again Divine…
what did they do before they invented the silence?
I wonder if I’m as loud as my cells and organelles. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder. ~ What did they do before they invented the silence? What could they have done before its existence? It must have been an impossible time, because I can never find it. Outside, I hear the animals. Inside, I…
The Sad Man’s Rambles | Of Christmas and Stuff
Of Christmas and Stuff The man knew a few things for certain. He was no Scrooge. He was no Grinch. But he sure as heaven knew that he was no Santa. He didn’t mind the fact that at the tender age of four his parents had told him that Santa was a nonexistent being, one…
Boy in a Well | Part 2
His face is plain and new and too small to really see. I had never seen this boy before. Before he can throw another rock at me, I call out to him: “Hi!” He can hear me. I wonder how he got in there. I wonder for how long. I ask him this. Maybe he…
One Last Next Thing | Poem
I never will because there is always more. Always one more thing I must acquire another feeling I need to chase. Nothing is getting better inside of me. (I won’t lie.) But that doesn’t matter. I live for the one next thing the next thing on my list. I can’t do it until it is…
Boy in a Well | Part 1
There would be moments where I would find time to be alone. I leave the cabin and sit along the river bank and toss stones into the water. It was nice, nice to think about anything and do nothing. For most of my life, I was an only child. That changed two weeks ago. It’s…
Overboard | Poem/Song
If you’re sad and feeling sober Just let me know, let me know. Or else I’m going over, going overboard, because this ship can’t contain your grievances– my condolences. – I’m going overboard sinking with the water where the pressure cracks my bones and I don’t have to listen to you or think of you….
Squirming Worms | Poem
Squirming worms of dread,
on the walls and in my head.
Things Do Not Change, We Change | Laws of Life Essay
I have always been a person that notes change. Frankly I’m not sure if I love or hate the breaking of my habitual routine or of my consistent thoughts and judgements; nonetheless, it is still fascinating to me. Thoreau’s quote is like a remedy to my younger self’s question about how people gain or lose…
Sammicakes 