Skip to main content

One Eye

He talks too little and writes too much. I hate eating with him. We're strangers sitting across from each other, night after night. I decide to read an obit out loud. "Herbert Walker, 95, passed into the arms of the Lord on Tuesday. He is survived by his pitbull, One Eye, now available at the dog rescue. The dog is friendly, housebroken, and a fine companion." I look at my husband. "Let's get him," he says.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

cracked egg

The year she stopped eating and working and talking, she devolved, draping cloth over mirrors, not brushing her teeth.  She went from Emily Dickinson to Sylvia Plath to Anne Sexton, reading their work over and over, copying their words. A day came. She reached for a pencil... cracked egg, hot griddle.  Her first poem filled two pages.  She now eats oatmeal and wanton soup from the Chinese restaurant.
2 comments
Read more

Blue-plate Pears

Acrylic/Collage 30" x 40" SOLD Painting was purchased within 24 hours!!!! More to come. Watch this space. 
Post a Comment
Read more

forgotten, confused

Her recollection was vague, faded. Had it ever happened? Possibly a dream, forgotten, confused. He looks at her. She should ask. Do you...? Did you...? His blink washes away a tear. She remembers.
Post a Comment
Read more