At Least They're Committed

The sun is coming up but it’s doing nothing to chase the darkness from my room. It won’t. It can’t. Not while they’re here. I’m laying in fetal position on the bed unable to move. There are two of them, one standing, hands stuffed in pockets, straggly white hair cascading down a long face with a long… Read more

I pick up the spoon by its maroon and white ribbon. It is wedged in the passenger-side door pocket of our Ford Freestar amid old receipts and a clear plastic bag. The ribbon is tied neatly and somehow permanently glued to the silver handle along with three, squarish white beads with the letters “P, A, T” etched… Read more

Bean bag entrails, chocolate clotted candy wrappers, moldy pennies, broken pencils, a football we’ve been missing for a year, the fleshy residue of a peel-off face mask from two nights ago . . . Demon Spawn’s former room is a character in and of itself, like the Stanley Hotel in The Shining but far less evil… Read more

I can’t get his head to stop spinning nor his eyes to stop rolling. Not yet. I can slow them down occasionally by putting my hands on either side of his face pressing my palms hard on his temples and staring right into his panicked green eyes. “The funeral is Saturday, 11 a.m., at the… Read more

OK, got back from partying with my best friends, Caitlin and Jeff, and my 17-year-old has this oldies CD on with my brother Dan’s all time favorite song on it! “Lord have meeerrsaaay!” totally rocking out, but then he has a date and takes it away. So sad. Guess I’ll have to look up Mitch… Read more

Angelo reads my blog! Or at least he tries to! Teehee. He asked me today if I knew it was confusing. That is so, so sweet! OK, I’ll try to keep the reader in mind (didn’t know there were any) and write with a LITTLE more sense and continuity . . . though I suppose that at… Read more