. . . I did a somersault and landed with both feet planted solidly on the back of an unclothed man kneeling on all fours. Then I broke into a garage and started planting tomato seedlings in the dark. The garage door creaked opened, and the lights of a police truck blinded me. I was caught red-handed.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
. . . everyone in Catahoula was getting ready for the vice presidential debate scheduled for live broadcast from Miss Gail's house. Street-sweepers had cleared the trash from the block party the night before, and flimsy white trash bags bulging with beer cans and beer bottles dotted St. Rita Highway. The pink brick church glittered. The elementary school sparkled. RE-ELECT JIMMY CARTER yard signs everywhere.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
A boy found a moth and asked his father what it meant. His father said, "What do you mean, 'What does it mean?' Dreams don't mean anything."
. . . I laid an orange-haired Little Red Riding Hood doll in the top drawer of the dishwasher and turned the dial to RINSE ONLY.
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Friday, September 13, 2013
At Double Trouble this afternoon Tim asked me about the stray kitty who's been visiting us lately, also known as Miss Kitty, also known as the cat we're definitely NOT adopting.
I said, "Andrew is allergic, so we can't keep her. What should I do?"
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
stand still and just drip dry
. . . I rode from San Diego to Louisiana in the bed of a monster truck. "What is that music?" I asked the guy sitting beside me. The emotion of the music as we rounded the canyon highway's curves matched the rocky landscape so perfectly it was like the music and the landscape were one, and it was like I was one with the music. He didn't know who the composer was. He'd never heard the music before either.