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If I’m alive… In twenty years, If I’m still alive I hope to hell I finally graduated from school. Kids have always liked me, not the other way round. This is the last twenty. Fix it. Admit it, I’m sick of kids. I’ll publish the definitive legend of how the Scottish play got its curse
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“Out, out brief candle,” I said. “Shakespeare is so antiquated. They’re taking him out of the schools now. He’s irrelevant,” said Nick. My son was six. “Can you tell a story in a thousand words or less in iambic pentameter? I didn’t think so.” “Just tell me a bedtime story,” he said. “It was a
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Adult Children A nurse in the doctor’s office ran me out of the room when the twins got their vaccinations to start school. They started crying the minute Dr. Brick said, “You know I would never do anything that would hurt without telling you.” They got five shots. Two in one leg, three in the
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When Mom died, I became keeper of the jewelry box. I dole out the contents to the various family members before I die. It’s not the standard little white padded jewelry box with the little gold lock and filigree. It’s the Chrysler Building of all jewelry boxes. Its contents are extraordinary. The most valuable commercial
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Famous Diner I didn’t think Shakespeare would show up for dinner, not the real one anyway. He’d been dead for four hundred and six years. My research for a novel featuring the bard had me making a basic English roast dinner, including a bad Yorkshire pudding. Those things are tricky. When I make them, they
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“It’s jacked up. Nobody consulted me about a standard damned poodle coming into this house. Life was just fine. It’s jacked up as shit,” said Norris. He stomped in a circle and thumped his tail before he could compose himself to continue. He was too damned mad. Norris was without words. “This had better not
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The Last Sunday of Summer Today is the last Sunday of summer. I go back to school tomorrow. A whole new ride starts. I didn’t think about it until yesterday. God, I hate giving up summer. I became a writer this summer. Being a writer gives you permission to stay home and write. In fact,
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All gardens need a boy.
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Soccer Mom “When someone makes a goal, click this button and record the time here and the kid’s number here,” said Linda, the coach. She was pointing to two columns on an Excel Spreadsheet on one of those coach’s clipboards with the secret compartments. “They’re six, Linda, why do we need a spreadsheet?” I think
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The Last of the Three Wishes
The genie granted me three wishes and of course the first two came true in a blaze of glory. He told me to be wise with my wishes and I felt that I was, foolishment was meant for sissies, I wanted all my wishes to mean something. To be granted wishes was nothing to sneeze Read more
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The Accident
The first job Lucy had was in Brunetti’s Family Restaurant waiting tables, fast paced and busy. You had to be light on your feet and quick in your head to keep up with the baked steak and chicken and dumplin’s coming out of the kitchen. Who got iced tea with lemon and who didn’t mattered Read more
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Remote Learning
With rigid rigor, the school board called a two hour delay for students in ice and snow before any roads had even been treated after an all night snow storm. Employees were to report on time. In an abrupt change of plans, half an hour before school was supposed to begin, a remote day was Read more
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Hand me downs
“Let’s go to Goodwill,” said Ian. “I need to get Mom a birthday present.” He knew there was nothing I wanted more than an antique butter dish with a lid, and the best place to find it was at a thrift shop. Goodwill came to his mind first. Thrift shops carried specialty items. Like the Read more
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Vocabulary Promise
The truth is a burning promise I have to live up to or lie about. Truth comes in lots of flavors. It’s easier to lie and ignore what’s in front of me sometimes. Knowing what I have to do to live up to the standards of school, or home, or law. I’d rather live one Read more
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Two Hour Delay Day
At least we don’t have hurricanes. Read more
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If I’m alive… In twenty years, If I’m still alive I hope to hell I finally graduated from school. Kids have always liked me, not the other way round. This is the last twenty. Fix it. Admit it, I’m sick of kids. I’ll publish the definitive legend of how the Scottish play got its curse
-
“Out, out brief candle,” I said. “Shakespeare is so antiquated. They’re taking him out of the schools now. He’s irrelevant,” said Nick. My son was six. “Can you tell a story in a thousand words or less in iambic pentameter? I didn’t think so.” “Just tell me a bedtime story,” he said. “It was a
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Adult Children A nurse in the doctor’s office ran me out of the room when the twins got their vaccinations to start school. They started crying the minute Dr. Brick said, “You know I would never do anything that would hurt without telling you.” They got five shots. Two in one leg, three in the
-
When Mom died, I became keeper of the jewelry box. I dole out the contents to the various family members before I die. It’s not the standard little white padded jewelry box with the little gold lock and filigree. It’s the Chrysler Building of all jewelry boxes. Its contents are extraordinary. The most valuable commercial
-
Famous Diner I didn’t think Shakespeare would show up for dinner, not the real one anyway. He’d been dead for four hundred and six years. My research for a novel featuring the bard had me making a basic English roast dinner, including a bad Yorkshire pudding. Those things are tricky. When I make them, they
-
“It’s jacked up. Nobody consulted me about a standard damned poodle coming into this house. Life was just fine. It’s jacked up as shit,” said Norris. He stomped in a circle and thumped his tail before he could compose himself to continue. He was too damned mad. Norris was without words. “This had better not
-
The Last Sunday of Summer Today is the last Sunday of summer. I go back to school tomorrow. A whole new ride starts. I didn’t think about it until yesterday. God, I hate giving up summer. I became a writer this summer. Being a writer gives you permission to stay home and write. In fact,
-
All gardens need a boy.
-
Soccer Mom “When someone makes a goal, click this button and record the time here and the kid’s number here,” said Linda, the coach. She was pointing to two columns on an Excel Spreadsheet on one of those coach’s clipboards with the secret compartments. “They’re six, Linda, why do we need a spreadsheet?” I think
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The Mystery in the Cook Book
I pulled the book off the shelves that looked most promising for a real recipe for rough puff pastry. The Great British Baking Show offered more inspiration than information, and Wolfgang Puck’s book looked more promising than most on the St. Albans library shelves. The book held that exquisite new book smell to it, and…
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Teachers’ Kids
“Out, out brief candle,” I said. “Shakespeare is so antiquated. They’re taking him out of the schools now. He’s irrelevant,” said Nick. My son was six. “Can you tell a story in a thousand words or less in iambic pentameter? I didn’t think so.” “Just tell me a bedtime story,” he said. “It was a…
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Black Licorice
“Which house shall we hit next, the brick one or that long white one with just the porch light on?” The Bunny Sisters collaborated. Trick or Treat was a serious matter. It had to be done in the most efficient and interesting of ways. Their costumes were fashioned of dresses from the thirties and their…
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An Unlikely Account of Lincoln’s Tophat
Not many people knew of Mercucio Sibedow, haberdasher to the presidency. Mercucio grew up south of the Mason Dixon line. He learned from his daddy how to make hats and ties, leather gloves, fashion mens finishing touches. You’d think that finishing touches were woman’s work, but that would be absolutely not true. In the world…
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How to hide a genius
As a society, we paint the most malformed picture we can grumble about. We tangle our thoughts in knots of despair so tight we can’t move from one group to the next without dire consequences. Once you move, there’s no going back, especially if you’ve moved “down.” Shunning is done with silent delight. Open, honest,…

