About

At Least They're Committed

Author: Tripping Raul

  • Two Dogs

    My brother Dan just texted me. “Dad’s up at the archery course. It’s the anniversary. Four years?” “Five!” I texted back. Dad was at the archery course, alone at dusk, when it happened: numbness, gripping pain, erratic heartbeat. He was having a heart attack for an hour before the ranger,…

  • 20 years younger

    I checked the clock when I walked through the glass doors, two hours until I needed to be at my next appointment. That ought to be enough, right? Ten people in the chairs on the right, three to the left. Not seeing the numbers dispenser despite the red-lit 505 on…

  • Hold

    The morning light that rolls through the sliding glass door and over my Shadow is deceptive. The wind chill is negative for the third day in a row. My Shadow is in a ball, nose to tail, brown eyes closed, sleek cocoa and ebony coat gleaming in the sunshine. Raul’s…

  • Oblivion

    It’s snowing so the Mexican Refugee, so eager to make her exit an hour ago, is now curled up on my bed looking at me warily, fearful that I’ll make her go back outside. Temp is 13 F; 0 factoring wind chill. Dogs stay in on days such as today.…

  • Editing

    Yawn. Even when I tweet sober I look back in the tweets from the night before and they are either nonsensical or, worse yet, dull. I killed them. Felt good. I’m going to try to limit my tweeting to once a day and then only if it’s interesting.

  • Good girl!

    I don’t need anyone to pop in unexpectedly to tell me what I good girl I am. It’s me. I’m by myself and I can say it aloud. I not only friended and calmed any insecurities of She Who Despises Me, I didn’t PLAY and you KNOW how hard it…

  • Pure

    Staring. Working furiously and staring. “Ease off. You’ve done enough.” I stop, I just stare. “Can you try to breathe? Please? This isn’t healthy.” I stare. “Your foot is bleeding.” I was already aware of that. He’s sitting in front of me, rubbing his temples. “You should be laughing, really.…

  • Saturday plans!

    “I saw that.” “What?” I don’t even turn around, instead staring straight ahead at the monitor. “What you wrote to Caitlin . . . about Saturday.” Eh, “It’s nothing. Did you see the part where I said I was going to be really nice to that woman who is so…

  • Lips

    I wasn’t sure that I’d know where to start, but I did. I ran my left hand across my lips and started to speak of the morning a week ago last Monday, of when I got the second of the inappropriate texts; the one that made me cry out, sent me into panic…

  • . . . and then there were none

    Pray for Kevin Doherty because the man’s assigned to meeeeeeeee! Yes, it’s true! Poor, poor man. The same drugs that keep me from putting rocks in my pockets and walking into the river are quelling my creative angst, but not killing it altogether. He’s going to have to have a…