Crapulous

Jordan staggered away from the concert with the group, ears ringing, thirsty, and concentrating. Left foot forward. Right foot forward. Don’t ralph again.

Follow the dude in the yellow shirt, he told himself.

Cryptic

Who could possibly know now of the master’s disregarded dawning? What waits scheming and strategizing endlessly in the shadows has indubitably, invariably lurked and lived there undetected and undeterred.

Circuitous

“I didn’t happen,” he said.

“Okay,” I replied.

“It wasn’t a cheese sandwich. Bernard doesn’t like cheese. Everybody forgets about Hazel. She wasn’t married to a guy named

Torn

Life spills out. A drop here or there at first. Then a slosh more. We stumble. The bucket jostles and a mess is made of what was once most precious. A will yet carries us on, our burden heavier and yet our time evaporating.

Avid Reader

Saturday. I was taking Muriel to London for the weekend. A father daughter trip to the theater. I remembered the little girl who loved time with her daddy.

“How was school yesterday?”

She grunted, kept reading.

Vivid

In the space of a handful of heartbeats, a moment forever vivid and often reconsidered. You asked the unexpected of the unworldly. Your smile sparkled and your laugh ever echoes. The feeling of confusion, so overwhelming, has faded through time, replaced with questions. What answer

Capable

“I have nothing to hide.” I have everything to hide. Scumbag reporters’ questions blur into a peaceful white noise. I take a deep breath and smile.

The perky blonde in the front row waves her arm again. She is exactly my type. I point at her big boobs. “Yes? You in the pink?”

“Are you capable of providing

Burnt

“We’re here.”

The Jamison burned my throat as the car jerked to a stop.

Everyone piled out. I smashed the bottle on the pavement.

Voices were excited. We’d made vows.

The Joy of Giving

Uncle Neal insisted she come to the East Village for a visit. “You have to come, Tina. You just have to.”

Tina held her breath and bugged her eyes out. “I can’t come today. I’m sorry.” She went down her mental checklist. There was so much still to do. And don’t forget

Board Meeting

Once upon a time, I started my own dot-com. I thrived on the eighteen hour days. Living in airports, the unending emails, the pressure. I told myself it was all worth it. Every day, until it became my mantra. Until I became my mantra. Because in the end there was the rush