Random Sequence

He waited half an hour before opening the closet door, and grimaced as it squeaked. He moved toward the bedroom in slow motion, letting each foot land softly on the carpet, shifting his weight to it, then taking another step. He reached the foot of the bed and looked down. The woman's unconscious face was familiar: It was Shelly -- an older version of Shelly with platinum blonde hair. He was unable to move for several seconds. Then he reached down and grabbed her toe.

Shelly's eyes flicked open and focused on him. Then she began to wail, loudly, like a police siren. He suddenly realized why. He still had the knife in his hand.
--from "Long Lost" (by me), originally published in Think

Head Rattle

I.Book title of the day: Father Christmas Needs a Wee. It's a British kids' book that's about exactly what it sounds like. TMI, if you ask me.

II.Meditation CDs for... dogs. Yes, there is such a thing, I've discovered. That's stretching it, right? Someone told me they tried one, and it made their dog start barking.


III.Reading over my new "Last Will & Testament" last night. It's not like on TV, where you leave your various tchotchkes to distant relatives and deliberately cut out anyone who's been nasty to you. Someone specific should get my antique wheelchair full of manikin parts, though....

Word of the Day: tatterdemalion

What's "the word I'm thinking of"? Today, it's....

tatterdemalion (noun)

A person who dresses in rags; a ragamuffin

Despite his sizable fortune, Cedric insisted on dressing like a scarecrow. Though he was often mistaken for a vagrant, he told anyone who cared to inquire that he was "a mere tatterdemalion."

Much Ado about NOTHING

I keep seeing small stickers stuck to traffic signs all over the city. They say this:

*nometcrside

...in the creepy Fraktur typeface. It means nothing to me, and a Google search turns up zilch for those words -- if they are words.

Putting them through the Internet Anagram Server yields some interesting, and vaguely disturbing, results:

Endemic Rots
Deceit Norms
Encoder Mist
Creed Monist
Medic Stoner
Dice Monster
Iced Monster
Demonic Rest
Dormice Nest
Cinder Motes
Credit Omens
Cited Sermon
Scorned Item
Code Minster
Mice Rodents
Crimes Noted
Cretins Demo
Erotic Mends

There are some cool band names in that list, perhaps.

Random Sequence

We did as she said, getting pricked and tripping over roots as we went along. Amazingly, she seemed to have no trouble keeping up with us. Obviously, she knew every inch of this forest. "Think she's taking us to the cave?" I whispered to Claggett, after we'd walked for what felt like a mile. "Or just someplace where she can hide our bodies?" Claggett glanced at me and whispered, "or both."
--from "The Iron Box" (by me), originally published in 3 AM Magazine

Photo of the Week

The assignment this week in my pottery class was to create a "vessel" in the form of a self-portrait. As it turns out, I'm not a very good potter, since this was the best I could come up with. I'll leave it up to you to decide how closely I resemble this mug jug. I couldn't figure out how to include my glasses, which I'm sure would have made the likeness much more obvious.

Actually, I just made that up. This is a photo I snapped at an antiques show a few summers ago. It's a haunting visage, don't you agree? Click the pic to get close up and personal.

Word of the Day: absquatulate

What's "the word I'm thinking of"? Today, it's....

absquatulate (verb)

To leave in a hurry; vamoose.

"'Time to absquatulate,' Hiram whispered to himself as the drapes went up in flames."

I was playing with a three-legged cat one night at a friend's house. I offered him a catnip toy, but it seemed to startle him. He absquatulated. I was a little miffed, but then he came back and sniffed it. Nice kitty. It's amazing how fast a three-legged cat can move.

~~~

By the way, you can purchase an entire book (by yours truly) of these bon mots from a river in Brazil: The Word I'm thinking Of

Random Sequence

The plane seemed to rotate ninety degrees. Then, finally, it skidded to a halt. Everyone was silent for a moment, then all the passengers started to talk at once. I turned to Pete. "Well, we made it," I said. "You can open your eyes now. It didn't come true after all, huh?"

He didn't answer.

"Pete?" I said.

"Hey, Pete!" I put my hand on his shoulder, and he slumped over onto my lap. Wagstaff was dead.

--from "Wagstaff's Dreams" (by me), originally published in The Square Table

Random Acts of Poetry

Break Time

Somewhere above
the arctic circle

stars form
absent faces in a dream.

These are signals, symbols
that come in waves

from an inland ocean,
delightful

as the periodic breezes
of a clouded afternoon

in the summer of the dog.
It's time for a break

at the dance school.
Time for the coffee,

the whiskey,
half an hour of it,

before each coat hanger
takes another spin.

Let's make a joke of structure!
Drop all our mail in the furnace.

So many people today
are made of paper.

No more a threat to us
than a snake in a cage,

than my mother
with her wooden spoon.

Link Mania: 'The Word I'm Thinking Of'

Dear Sir or Madam,

Will your read my book? It took me years to write, will you take a look?



Yes, the rumors are true. I've written a book.

So far, I'm just a paperback writer. But someday soon, I hope you'll be able to peruse it on your e-book reader. And even listen to it....

Much Ado about NOTHING

Adventures in Driving

I was chauffeuring a relative around Northern New Jersey today, trying to obey the commands of the female voice barking from by iPhone GPS app. I got to where I needed to go, but, thanks to the quirks and eccentricities of New Jersey highway construction -- like routes physically divided into "express" and "local" lanes, running parallel but never allowing drivers to cross from one to the other -- I was a little late. And a little sweaty, after receiving an unexpected tour of the Newark warehouse district.

The adventure ended with a peregrination into Manhattan. For that leg of the trip, we took public transit, since I avoid driving in The City whenever practical. The NYC subway, when crowded, provides an excellent opportunity to experience the discomfiture of inadvertently making eye contact with strangers. You almost always end up where you wanted to go, though, and by the expected route. And no one honks at you.

Quote of the Day

"First of all, I am a real Minimalist, because I don't do very much. I know some minimalists who call themselves minimalist, but they do loads of minimalism. That is cheating. I really don't do very much."
--Robert Wyatt