What can YOU say in six sentences?
My mother had Elizabeth Taylor's eyes only they were green instead of violet. She also had her smile, nose, hair and almost as many husbands. They shared a fondness for pills, a love of drama and a heart for helping others. They were always a pair in my mind and when my mother died in 1984 it was as if Liz lived on as an extension, or a comforting parallel. I was doing two or three things at once last night when I glanced across the room at a television I could not hear, saw the word…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 28, 2011 at 6:30pm — 11 Comments
We had an imaginary child while we were dating, a boy we called Julian. "He will climb and break things," my future husband joked, "and he will drool in his sleep." We were dreaming in those early years, writing our own story as a game to see how close we could get to reality. I always pictured a high chair…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 28, 2011 at 2:38pm — 9 Comments
In a smoke-filled room of empty chairs and tables he sang My Funny Valentine only for her. The ghost of Rico's voice still lingered like expensive perfume, clung to the mirrors, ceiling and stained red sofas along the back wall of the club. Ernie swept the floor while Linda hummed to herself, took his time so she could perform her ritual. She played back the tape as she had for years, handsome Rico on stage ten million lifetimes ago, her rejection of an offer she thought bogus, his…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 27, 2011 at 9:30pm — 9 Comments
Julian's carseat was blasted twice this week with projectile poo but he's a trooper, still happy, eating French bread from Whole Foods at the moment, part of his "BRAT" diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast) to cure week-long butt woes. My husband and I were a tag team yesterday afternoon, Bring me the wipes and a plastic Kroger bag...I need the changing pad...Put these clothes in another bag and drop them in the utility room...Take the carseat apart so I can wash the…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 27, 2011 at 9:30am — 11 Comments
Added by Teresa on March 25, 2011 at 10:00pm — 10 Comments
Some nights I can see through Han's window where he sits and writes to me, his office and other rooms cluttered with boxes still unpacked after seven years. Before she left for college, it was common to hear his daughter play violin from her upstairs bedroom, beautiful sounds flooding my back yard where I would sit after dark just to listen, unaware that downstairs furniture was being ripped apart by his other child, holes punched into walls. I never knew he had a son, then came our…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 20, 2011 at 12:30pm — 7 Comments
It occurred to me while listening to Cecilia Bartoli's powerful opera voice that I might believe in God after all. The revelation was not born of the usual human panic, chemically induced mind expansion, naturally occurring blissful state or evangelical pressure, and no, I do not imagine God as an invisible old man with a conscience per se. It was just a musically inspired daydream that revealed a slice of brain tissue (yes it did) with its cauliflower pattern of white and gray,…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 19, 2011 at 11:30am — 4 Comments
The men from Lily Frog are here to install a cedar playset to keep my children occupied this summer. They arrived as promised during the window of 8:00 and 10:00 am, two men I greeted in my almost-like-daywear pajamas assuming they would arrive at the far end of the time window. As I instructed where in the back yard to put the hulking playset - three swings, a slide, climbing…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 17, 2011 at 1:00pm — 9 Comments
The playful center of the flower reminds me of the tiny whimsical world in Horton Hears A Who, hidden from the larger, outer, disbelieving world. The pale velvety petals are like fairy wings or those of a dragonfly painted opaque. The center petal is folded in mourning, or maybe she is only…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 16, 2011 at 11:30am — 10 Comments
Added by Teresa on March 15, 2011 at 6:30pm — 13 Comments
Added by Teresa on March 10, 2011 at 11:00pm — 13 Comments
Six small children hold hands in pairs as they cross from one school building to the next. They do not know they attend a school for children with autism, that they themselves have autism, that it is odd to be able to read before they can speak, or speak without ever leaving their topic of obsession. They believe it is normal to have jumbled senses, to see music, hear color. A dark-haired girl at the front of the line is mesmerizing to watch, her arms extending…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 9, 2011 at 6:30pm — 7 Comments
The sudden knock at the door caused Brody to spill his last Coors on a worn Penthouse magazine. "Fuck..." he mumbled as he clumsily wiped the fizzing liquid with a ball of black underwear before quickly pulling on his standard uniform of gray sweat pants stained with urine. He expected Marty from hotel management since he was late with rent, not the juicy neighbor in a tight skirt, "Yeah, can I help you?" Julia quickly introduced herself and her young son, Josh, said she…
ContinueAdded by Teresa on March 7, 2011 at 10:30pm — 6 Comments
Added by Teresa on March 7, 2011 at 8:00pm — 12 Comments
Added by Teresa on March 6, 2011 at 11:00am — 14 Comments
Added by Teresa on March 4, 2011 at 12:30pm — 16 Comments
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