Huh?
Welcome to the inside of my mind. Sorry for the clutter. While in the realm of nonfiction, let me just say memory is a lousy filer. To the best of my recollections the following actually happened. Hopefully none of it will hold up in court, being hearsay from an unreliable witness.
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What Goes Thump in the Night
At times I wonder if I’ve slipped into speaking Sumerian. Possibly a past-life resurfacing; in this one I speak only English. Or perhaps I’m mumbling unawares. I try to enunciate. Yet there are individuals who respond like I said something else altogether. Maybe they only tune in to every 5th word, then fill in the
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Glad to Be of Service
[Revision of a story published in 2016] You can take the queer out of the city, but you can’t make the Navy town on the peninsula seem anything but off. Vestiges of the city follow, the seedy bits. Perhaps it’s the military presence that encourages seamier behavior. If that’s the case, I have yet another
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Once Bitten, Twice Bitten, Somehow Never Shy
Rare is the person who has kept house with critters & not, at some point, felt the close of teeth on skin. It’s a rite of passage. Sharing life with beings whose sole means of defense is the power of their jaws, it just happens. I may be antisocial, but no people have resorted to
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The Witches of Eastlake
I may be guilty of many things, but wizardry isn’t one. If this were Salem, Mass. in the summer of 1692, I certainly would’ve been set ablaze, tossed in the drink, or swung from the gallows. Puritans would’ve found me objectionable, no doubt. Wouldn’t even have passed age 5 or 6. It was then I
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Odd Job
As far as anachronistic employment opportunities go, I traveled back further than most… to 200 B.C.E. China. Now it wouldn’t have surprised me to have taken work on a vintage steam locomotive trundling tourists to ghost towns, or leading people to weird mounds of geologic/anthropologic significance in Washington state. But to make hand-painted wallpapers was
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Festive is in the Eye of the Beholder
In Homeland Security databases it’s noted that classic American cars are terrorists’ preferred mode of transport for weapons-grade plutonium. Or they’re the vehicles of choice for human trafficking. Or they’re tagged as drug cartel automobiles. Or I could just be stretching the hyperbole a bit much. What do I know? I fit the profile of
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Huh? 