The wino tried to horn in on the blonde singer's action; Roanne sent him packing.
The woman blushed: "Occupational hazard."
"Oh yeah, down here," Roanne said.
The woman looked down and her smile faded to just about nothing. Her quick change of mood disconcerted Roanne.
Just for a moment she wanted to touch the blonde woman, gently, gently, to bring the light back to her eyes...
Added by Robert Crisman on July 31, 2010 at 10:07pm —
I want you to know what it felt like - it was real still and warm inside, and as we sunk into the softness of the song I could swear there were beams of light coming out of me. I closed my eyes because I could feel the magic thing looking at me up close, and you never, never want to look it in the eyes.
"...you make me smile with me heart..."
Man, it was so quiet in there and that song felt like a part of me just flowing out... unhindered,… Continue
Added by Glen Green on July 31, 2010 at 8:30pm —
One of my friends came in toward the end of the song, called me crazy and said he thought I'd run off to Tijuana. We ordered more drinks, another friend came in, and the place started to get busier. The singer, he kept doing his thing, and if you were just walking in and you didn't look too closely, you'd think he was the paid talent. Some time passed, the drinking continued - except for the singer, who never had anything stronger than tea - the lights dimmed into evening, and there was a… Continue
Added by Glen Green on July 31, 2010 at 7:30pm —
Singing in public was not something I did, except when we ran through Camp Pendelton's dusty hills, but like I said - there was magic at work, and who was I too refuse? I joined the singer on his piano bench and paged through the book he handed me until I found "House of The Rising Sun". The microphone made me shy and my timing was off, but I got through it and wasn't too bothered by the presence of the couple who had joined us in the place.
Like any good teacher, the singer… Continue
Added by Glen Green on July 31, 2010 at 7:30pm —
During his break I awkwardly approached him, thanked him for the music, and gave him back his Zippo. He received it graciously - seemed kind of regal - like he was used to handling the adulation of toungue tied fans. I told him I was about to eat some noodles and asked if he'd allow me to get something for him - he ordered soup and tea. We ate at separate tables and did not speak. His break was measured and professional.
Returning to his microphone, he said, "ladies and… Continue
Added by Glen Green on July 31, 2010 at 6:30pm —
"You're beautiful, kid" he said, and I started to believe him.
He seemed to have the run of the place, like maybe Mamasan let him sing when there was no one else around. He continued his Sinatra medley, and I noticed his overstuffed, weather-beaten backpack in the corner.
"When I was seventeen, it was a very good year.." he looked at me when he sang and, no shit, I got goose bumps.
"It was a very good year, for small town… Continue
Added by Glen Green on July 31, 2010 at 6:00pm —
It was my twenty-first birthday, a block or two off Broadway, and I was drunk without the usual temptation to cut my own throat with broken glass. The sun was out, things looked good, something like magic was starting to work, and I was not getting in the way. I walked past a little Japanese noodle place, just about empty in the mid-afternoon, except for a hard-luck man sitting at a piano singing his karaoke version of The Summer Wind. The look and feel of schizophrenia was about… Continue
Added by Glen Green on July 31, 2010 at 5:30pm —
The woman wound down to a soft, steady strumming, then fadeout...and then, applause, long and heartfelt, along with the clink-clink of change in her case and the rustle of bills dug deep from pockets. Even a wino threw in some pennies, yelling and whistling and lurching, seeking a share of the spotlight of course; still, he'd somehow been touched, perhaps by the energy thrown by the crowd.
Roanne walked up to the woman and threw in more bills, and Michelle added change, and Roanne told the… Continue
Added by Robert Crisman on July 31, 2010 at 5:10pm —
you streak of pasta piss,
virtually useless fucker
without heat, wetness, you are brittle
easily snapped into fragments.
when you are done you cling,
wanting to stick, to… Continue
Added by jkdavies on July 31, 2010 at 5:08pm —
All I have as a reminder of my grandmother is two pieces of white corning ware; the kind used on the stove or microwave, as it states on the bottom of each piece, complete with glass top and colorful hens all around.
I have had these pieces for about thirty eight years; given to me as a wedding gift.
This particular grandmother was a difficult personality, given to letting everyone know exactly how she felt, without… Continue
Added by Bonnie on July 31, 2010 at 4:48pm —
By the chill and the turn of the leaves and the fog around his heart he knew that this was the anniversary of his father's death. He stood and stared at the endless golden plain rolling away from him and his insides were simmering and he decided it best to be alone.
His feet took him into the mountains. He sat on the prow of the promontory his father called tanka ihake, great end, and spoke his questions, but the only answer he received was that there were two skies - the… Continue
Added by Jamie Hogan on July 31, 2010 at 2:56pm —
One of us will either die or walk away. You can't blame anyone for either mode of demise. Relationships are built to end. Enjoy the moment, the now. We all make promises. They're built like everything else.
Added by Teresa on July 31, 2010 at 2:22pm —
She tries to smile but can't hide the tumult of feelings that inhabit her being.
She watches her step carefully, wanting to make mistakes no more.
The ground is hard, the journey long, destination unknown.
She looks around, her eyes meet nothing but endless stretches of untrodden land.
With eyes closed, faith in her heart; she fights away the advancing fears.
She draws a deep breath and plunges head-first into her future.
Added by Khadeeja Z. on July 31, 2010 at 2:10pm —
His compact car was packed full of what looked like every piece of clothing he owned; I'd see him some mornings as he emerged, coffee and newspaper clumsily balanced during the struggle to pull on his lab coat which was stained with coffee and mysterious tire marks. At the clinic he kept to himself and often did little real work as was evidenced by unread x-rays hung on viewboxes at 8 am and still remaining -- unread -- at 5 pm. All most of the department knew of Stridden was that he was a… Continue
Added by Teresa on July 31, 2010 at 2:00pm —
The slender blonde woman played for the ages there in that open-air space in the Market and Roanne tossed some money into the case at her feet. Roanne's face had softened, though no less intent than it usually was; it was as if she wanted to capture the sounds of the woman swooping and soaring and suck them right in through her eyes and the pores of her skin. She stood there, face lifted a bit, as if she was offering it up to the wind.
Roanne's silence enveloped Michelle, took her right up,… Continue
Added by Robert Crisman on July 31, 2010 at 2:00pm —
I did it. Yes I did; I moved the furniture; now, it's just the way I think it should be.
I did it without asking my roommate; after all, I'm the decorator within this twosome, and really, he isn't here much anyway, so I did it.
And he was perfectly OK with my earlier rearrangements - But that was before.
My voice told me I should at least call him,… Continue
Added by Bonnie on July 31, 2010 at 1:54pm —
You have no idea...how the thought of being stunned out of bed at an hour before daybreak kills my soul.
The finality of it thrusts a knife directly through me; the rude interruption, feet hitting the cold floor in the dark; poor me.
This is but one of the little nuances of unnecessary grief I have built within the walls of my existence; all of them bearing the fruit of fear.
I attribute… Continue
Added by Bonnie on July 31, 2010 at 1:35pm —
Roanne and Michelle left the second-tier shops for the open-air space that led to the steps that carried on down down to the water. Musicians and jugglers were strumming and throwing their balls in the air on the broad wooden ramp and small clusters of people had gathered around them. These folks were primarily tourists, sprinkled with some of the usual flotsam: winos and tramps, a wingnut or two, some tweakers of course, that guy nodded out by the rail... Young guys on skateboards were rolling… Continue
Added by Robert Crisman on July 31, 2010 at 9:55am —
I had a friend who could see into the future. We would go out, drink a few beers and with a wink and a smile, he'd tell me exactly how the night would turn out. It would, word for word, happen exactly as he foretold. We used to joke how it was a gift from the devil himself. He was killed last summer, hit by a car as he crossed the road to talk to a girl. They say he never saw it coming.
Added by Stuart Mckellar on July 31, 2010 at 9:42am —
She seemed so tiny when I first held her in my arms.
I thought if I squeezed to tightly she would surely break.
For years I watched her every move as she explored the world, small hands busy trying to figure out what things were in this giant place.
Little legs scrambling here and there wanting to step in every direction at once as if she was trying to reach her destiny way to soon.
From diapers to training bras to secret drawers, my baby became a… Continue
Added by michael r. oconnor on July 31, 2010 at 9:41am —