Via some prophecy, my son has
reached one half my chronological
age. And there are so many things
he can tell me: when The Macho... more
From the shadow of an oak tree.
Every time they go-cart raced, she beat the living crap out of him.
Although I guess it really started on Saturday morning.
The Boy was born poor and continued to be poor.
This is a meaningful story about the intestinal parasite I picked up while living in Salt Lake City, in Ted Bundy’s house.
If not for “Alive,” I’d be dead.
A bald eagle was shot directly above my head, mid-flight, and its feathers rested gently on my scalp for the rest of geological time.
On the way to T’s childhood Wendy’s I tell her
about mine, a Fancy Wendy’s, with a salad bar,
rooms, tin... more
I was so broke I went to see my mother.
Nothing would deter us.
Esther rises and pulls the cord and moves to the front of the bus, whereupon it brakes and kneels.