storysunday.blogspot.com
Sunday Stories: The cowboy in the transom
http://storysunday.blogspot.com/2006/03/cowboy-in-transom.html
Sunday, March 05, 2006. The cowboy in the transom. This is not the sort of thing you expect to find in an upscale law office. Mr Wentworth was commenting on the cowboy who was lodged in the transom of the entryway to our offices, Wentworth, Dysan and Gushaty. I had to agree with him. It was an uncommon place for a cowboy to be. As Mr Wentworth was the senior partner, I felt I had to offer him an explanation, inadequate though it might be. That’s Murakami in the transom? Yes sir, that would be him. With t...
storysunday.blogspot.com
Sunday Stories: June 2006
http://storysunday.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html
Saturday, June 24, 2006. A system for socks. He woke up, wondering where his sock was. I’m looking for 14B. Have you seen 14B? No one answered. They may have still slept. Again, Roger asked, though more quietly now, Has no one seen 14B? 14B was a sock. Specifically (as indicated by the ‘B’) it was a right sock. Left socks were categorized as ‘A.’ (Roger did everything left to right.). Calling for 14B implied he had 14A he was missing the matching sock. His right foot was naked. The voice came from Stacey...
storysunday.blogspot.com
Sunday Stories: A ghost story notion with too much exposition
http://storysunday.blogspot.com/2006/01/ghost-story-notion-with-too-much.html
Sunday, January 15, 2006. A ghost story notion with too much exposition. It was raining for the 28th straight day and everything, even birthday parties, felt funereal. As this was a funeral, of sorts, there was a sense of excess to the occasion. The mourners arrived just in time dressed as clowns. Trent scratched his head, sighed and said, That’s all they could get? Flo shrugged. You’ve got to remember, she said. You’re not dead. They don’t know that! The ghost that ain’t actually dead. Flo just rolled h...
storysunday.blogspot.com
Sunday Stories: No good reason
http://storysunday.blogspot.com/2007/03/no-good-reason.html
Sunday, March 04, 2007. He ran in front of the assembled crowd wearing nothing but chaps. It created a commotion. She ran in front of the grocery cart and addressed the woman pushing it in declamatory fashion. That is not food to be serving growing children, she exclaimed, adding, It’s unhealthy! It’s for my husband, the other woman responded. The first woman reacted with a quizzical look, then said, And you married him? Regrettably, the bus driver was in a mood and not about to slow down for anyone.
storysunday.blogspot.com
Sunday Stories: A system for socks
http://storysunday.blogspot.com/2006/06/system-for-socks.html
Saturday, June 24, 2006. A system for socks. He woke up, wondering where his sock was. I’m looking for 14B. Have you seen 14B? No one answered. They may have still slept. Again, Roger asked, though more quietly now, Has no one seen 14B? 14B was a sock. Specifically (as indicated by the ‘B’) it was a right sock. Left socks were categorized as ‘A.’ (Roger did everything left to right.). Calling for 14B implied he had 14A he was missing the matching sock. His right foot was naked. The voice came from Stacey...
storysunday.blogspot.com
Sunday Stories: The porcelain urns
http://storysunday.blogspot.com/2006/04/porcelain-urns.html
Sunday, April 09, 2006. The sound it made when it broke proclaimed the sudden turn my life would take. Though not sounding anything like a starter’s pistol it managed to convey the same sense begin. Now! Through the window I could see the sky graying with clouds. The air surrounding me was becoming thicker, heavy with increasing humidity and the assurance of rain. The streets grew quiet. The world stilled with a sense of premonition. When the door opened I turned and watched as she stepped into the room.
storysunday.blogspot.com
Sunday Stories: May 2006
http://storysunday.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html
Sunday, May 21, 2006. I was not offended that JJ. Didn’t use my starter sentence. I said this aloud although there was no one in the room but the cat to hear my declaration. Well, that was not entirely true. A character was there, ill-defined though he or she was, but with a need to respond. So what was chosen? 3 2 1 I said. What the hell kind of starter sentence is that? 3 2 1 he muttered, his gender established. That’s not a sentence. It’s not even the beginning of one. In my. I had never liked James D...
storysunday.blogspot.com
Sunday Stories: Dinner is cancelled
http://storysunday.blogspot.com/2006/04/dinner-is-cancelled.html
Saturday, April 29, 2006. It was either a pill or a piece of candy. Or it was Donny’s missing eye. I was hoping for the pill or candy. If it was the eye Well, Mitzi the cat had it and was swatting it around the room as if it were a pinball and her paws were flippers. She scrambled after it through the living room and out and down the hall. What the hell’s that sound? Donny moaned. I can’t see damn anything. You’ve still got your other eye, I said. I’m distracted. You try having a hole in your face. It co...
storysunday.blogspot.com
Sunday Stories: October 2005
http://storysunday.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_archive.html
Sunday, October 30, 2005. It was just a bad feeling. I couldn’t coordinate my limbs. Stepping forward, I would weave right. Reaching out to the fence for balance, I clutched air and staggered in quick-step fashion till I came to an abrupt stop, arms outstretched, weaving like an unstable antenna. I tried to speak but my words slid, one into another, in an unintended stream of verbal sound. I was not as articulate as I had hoped. Someone else said:. Maybe you should sit down. We’ll have to hose him down.
