And my car smells of death

The businessmen rise early, dress smartly in tight pants and fleece vests. They map out their day, plan phone calls, taking care to sequence them properly. Many calls depend on prior ones, the results of previous conversations. Who reports to whom, who must know what by what time. Follow ups and proactive reachings-out. Partnerships and…

When Can I See You Again?

And now here it is… the last post of the Halloween season. It’s by an actress from Holland who lives on a tiny Greek island, and it’s unlike anything else I’ve posted this month. It’s the perfect sentiment to finish with. It turns Halloween into something new, something wistful. It yearns. And I’m a sucker for wistful yearning. 

The Weary Traveler

Isn’t Halloween the best? Yes, it is! Throughout October I will be featuring Guest Posts that have a Halloweenish bent to them. Check out October Is Coming for details. I’m pleased to feature today a haunting piece by the lovely and ethereal uncaged. You may have known her once as joycemildred, but she likes to…

Shorter of breath, and one day closer

I stopped using the Fitbit for anything but a watch. A day at work gives me 10,000 steps by the time the whistle blows, this I’ve learned, and the sleep tracker tells me nothing I don’t already know about how little time I spend sleeping. And we say time can be spent, like money, like…

Longing

A stone drops into a pond, punches a hole in it. Water balls up, born, leaps up and out, alive in drops that sing, rise, separate from the rest. No longer at rest, they spin, suspended, frozen, apart. No longer a part of the whole, they wonder, question, desire. They stall. They begin to fall.…

She Who Marks the Days

There is a woman who marks the days. Not the days that have passed, but the days to come. She marks the days she has yet to live. All these days she marks, up to the one that might be her last. She cannot know that one. There is a last day. A last mark. But…

Georgette Is With A Client

Georgette had said it would take a week to ten days to get the cremains and death certificates back. After fourteen days, I phoned to ask why the delay. “Georgette is with a client,” said the girl who answered. “But let me check. We just got some in.” I wondered what she meant by some.

In Which Death Visits Me Whilst I Breakfast

I was sitting in my usual booth at the GHOP (Gentleman’s House of Pancakes). On the table before me was a plate full of untouched ones (pancakes). I was pushing them around with a fork. To the best of my knowledge, Dick Hercules was not around. “May I join you?” I looked up. It was not Mr.Hercules.…