Old townhouse

February 25, 2015 § Leave a comment

Aunt Jean lived in an old townhouse at the end of Willow Street. It has not been kept up since she became a widow. Over the years the windows became dull and covered in soot. The stucco facade was streaked with discoloration along the edges and corners and hairline cracks. The townhouse was also shrouded in darkness from the overgrown ginkgo trees, which gave the townhouse the reputation as being the “smelly house on Willow Street”. When the nuts from the ginkgo tree would fall, the neighborhood children would stomp on them spitefully, releasing a pungent and rotten scent. 

“Are you talking to me?”

December 28, 2014 § Leave a comment

Painted in Waterlogue

Rocco stood in front of his reflection and recited the lines from his favorite movie. “Are you talking to me?” He said with the corners of his mouth pointed downward and posture matched the actor who made those lines famous.

He would only behave this way in public when he caught his reflection in a storefront, puddle, or other reflective surface. Most people who observe his acting-out think he must be unstable and may combust into violence should he raise his attention onto someone other than his reflection. They try to avoid being in his line of vision within the reflection and in his path.

Not only does his playing out the scene in public give people concern but Rocco’s tall stature and broad frame intimidate people. The jagged scar on his bald head puts a bit of fright in those who are close enough to see it. He never smiles. His mouth is kept at a straight line except when he speaks those famous lines from his favorite movie.

A few seconds after he finished his act in front of the neighborhood bakery, he noticed a man across the street staring at him and their eyes locked. Rocco’s mouth and posture straightened. Passerby’s hurried off into shops or ducked behind cars and watched what they had anticipated would happen. Rocco turned slowly around and stared deep into the eyes of the man across the street, and played out the famous lines from his favorite movie, including full body gestures and facial expression, “Are you talking to me?”

“Are YOU talking to me!?”

The man clapped, smiled, and said, “That’s my favorite movie.”

Rocco’s mouth loosened and curled upwards.


December 14, 2014 § Leave a comment


George can be found sleeping at his desk in front of the computer monitor and in mid sentence of typing up a document. He usually snaps himself out of his mid unconsciousness state and resumes typing as though nothing happened. Sometimes he’ll drink a cup of coffee in an attempt to wake himself up. It doesn’t always work. He has caught himself drifting into sleep while sipping coffee. One of those times, he ended up spilling the hot drink on his keyboard. His colleagues thought it was an innocent office mishap. Even though nobody in the office was hip to the truth, George was embarrassed. He knew he has a problem but he made little attempts to correct it.


December 7, 2014 § Leave a comment

Painted in Waterlogue

Billy-Bob and Jackson paced back and forth on the grass in front of a thicket of leaves and thorny vines. Soft voices and laughter filtered through capturing their curiosity. The layers of leaves and vines obscured their view. They only catch fleeting glimpses of a wrist, a shoulder, or ankle.

Their brother, Jimbeau, laid on the ground, his face planted in the grass. His hand still reached into the dense foliage. The surviving brothers learned the vines are studded with poisonous thorns and there was no way to reach through the foliage without getting scratched.

Then they see a hand emerge through without any scratches. The skin was soft and luminescent. The hand turned upward and beckoned Billy-Bob and Jackson to come hither. The brothers looked at each other and then at the hand, which then pulled back into the leaves, vines, and deadly thorns.

Billy-Bob tried to grab for the hand but overreached. His hand cut into the thicket as the luminescent hand slipped back into the leaves. Jackson watched in anticipation as his brother’s faced twisted and distorted with every strike from the thorns. And like Jimbeau, Billy-Bob collapsed onto the ground with his face planted in the grass and the one hand in the thicket.

Fire escape

September 3, 2014 § Leave a comment

Fire escape

A man was heard shouting for “Cat”. He was dressed in an all khakis colored uniform. His friends stood at his sides also dressed in the same uniform though it looked drab on them. They were standing across the street from a seven story walk up apartment. The brick facade with stone trim was obscured by fire escapes.

Cat would often sit out on the fire escape in the evenings usually finding entertainment watching people going about their lives. In fact, she was sitting out with her friends enjoying a glass of wine when one of them noticed three men marching down the street. Cat recognized them and ushered her friends inside her apartment through the window and pulled the curtains down.

He called out to Cat and pleaded for her to come out and see him. He apologized though without any specificity. He proclaimed his love for her and the other girl meant nothing. It was a moment of weakness, he claimed. He continued to profess his love and faithfulness from this point on. A group of high school girls giggled as they walked by.

When it seemed like Cat was not going to show herself, he noticed the curtains swayed and bobbed. He readied his face with a smile. The curtains drew back slightly and out swung Cat’s arm and an empty bottle. The bottle shattered at his feet. His friends jumped aside. He looked up at the still curtains, the corners of his mouth turned downward and he began shouting obscenities and curse words. A few passersby were startled by his outbursts while others looked on with curiosity. His friends struggled to quiet him down but eventually lead him away and around the corner. Cat could still hear him shouting at her.


September 1, 2014 § Leave a comment

Nobody knows how old Harry is. They say he’s ancient. He can get around on his own for an old fella, albeit slowly. Harry’s been working for the company since the first day the office opened for business. He started out in the mail room and worked quickly and with determination. He’s still determined, and has no plans to retire even though he has been eligible to do so.

Harry is charming and a gentle soul and liked by most people. He wasn’t always gentle though. When he was a young boy, he’d get into fights with the other lads in the orphanage. He was small compared to the other boys his age at the time, so he was picked on. He’d manage to fight back, and won the respect of some of the boys. He had a growth spurt the following year.

As a young serviceman in the army, he’d charmed all the ladies at the social clubs. This annoyed the other suitors. Inevitably, Harry would find himself having to fight back because somebody always lost patience with him for being so charming with the ladies.

Everybody in the office liked Harry except for one person, Sam.


September 1, 2014 § Leave a comment


Sam likes to watch the office from his cubicle. Although he’s a tall and slender man, he sits low and coiled back in his chair. And yet, he manages to peer above the cubicle partition and observe his colleagues.

His colleagues rarely sees him about the office, or when he comes and goes. If he’s not at his cubicle, he’s either out to lunch, in the restroom, or at the water cooler. He moves quietly. His shoes do not squeak. His clothes do not flap or rustle. Often times, his colleagues are startled by his sudden appearance as they turn around or look up from their computer monitors. He usually stands, waiting, with a grin.

Contrary to his quiet demeanor, he is loquacious and engages his colleagues in all manners of conversation. Sometimes these conversations are one sided, or worse, laborious.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 860 other followers