I dreamed about killing you again last night

I dreamed about Kate last night. We sat behind her, me and the family, my wife and our girls, in Poland, in an auditorium, no leg room between our hard wooden seats and the ones in front, one of which was hers, Kate’s. As the massive crowd let out, outside, the girls ran ahead, as…

Let’s see who falls in love

Milena was my partner for the ice breaker. I was fine with Milena, but I had my eyes on Agnieska, or Kate. We had to share our most memorable experience as teachers. The one where we deeply touched a student, I guess. I guess the point was to get us in the mood for touching…

Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back)

We were in Mexico, you and I, visiting your family, officially, but looking for your future wife, unofficially. You were, I mean — not me. Not that it matters. Anyway, you were lying on your bed, headphones on, listening to the new Flaming Lips CD, Clouds Taste Metallic, at my request. I asked what you thought.…

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. 

Rachel doesn’t

Rachel is going to call tonight. This is a big deal. I will have to be on my game. There must be charm, exuberance, a certain joie de vivre, as the French say. I don’t know what this means, I’ve just heard they say it, and it sounds good in my head. Something to shoot…

Hope calls

Friday Night The phone rings. I hate it when it does that. I answer anyway. “Walt?” “Yes.” “Hi. Umm…” I blink. Wait. “I just wanted to call. My name’s Hope.” I’m sitting on my bed, facing the window. I check the clock on my nightstand, wonder where my ride is. We’re going to be late. “Okay…”…

The underlying theme

In the film version, this scene starts with a close shot of a white ball on a green tee, a one-wood whooshing and clinking solidly, a ball soaring off towards the green. In this version, the real one, the club head comes in too high, conks the top of the ball, ball dribbles thirty yards…

The guy who played the skipper

The glossy pictures in Hit Parader magazine show the drummer using black-and-white-striped drumsticks, and Kevin DuBrow’s mic stand is striped black-and-white too.  The white pvc pipe of the first nunchucks look a little plain next to the new ones made of whittled wood. There’s black electrical tape in the garage. I wrap it around the pipe…