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wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com

Wish It Were Fiction: Skin Deep

http://wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com/2010/10/skin-deep.html

Wish It Were Fiction. Things I couldn't make up, and wouldn't, if I could have. (Others, I'm just happy to report.) You can email me at Minokemeg@aol.com. Monday, October 18, 2010. If I were a fashion designer, the clothes would be all about what's on the inside. Beautiful silk linings. Colorful finishes on the seams. Wild patterns on the inside of the collar, the placket. Brocade interiors showing when you rolled up the shirt or trouser cuffs. But I can't even sew. I wish someone would do this.

wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com

Wish It Were Fiction: 03/01/2009 - 04/01/2009

http://wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html

Wish It Were Fiction. Things I couldn't make up, and wouldn't, if I could have. (Others, I'm just happy to report.) You can email me at Minokemeg@aol.com. Monday, March 16, 2009. THE TELEMARKETER'S POINT OF VIEW. The jail's a funny building, not prison-like at all. It's a high-rise, covered with skinny rectangular slits instead of windows. It's a big triangular block on end - not like any place I've ever seen. Seems they couldn't bother with a fourth wall for the trouble locked inside. On the day I'm tal...

wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com

Wish It Were Fiction: Letting the Blister Rise

http://wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com/2008/05/letting-blister-rise.html

Wish It Were Fiction. Things I couldn't make up, and wouldn't, if I could have. (Others, I'm just happy to report.) You can email me at Minokemeg@aol.com. Tuesday, May 06, 2008. Letting the Blister Rise. This week, Susan Henderson asks LITPARK devotees about what's in their drawers or pockets. In my pocket was an email, with the address of the Israeli consulate, and this is why:. They gave me a pass on the metal detector, and I joined the crowd. Aunt Dorothy was there, and thrilled to see me. In trut...

wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com

Wish It Were Fiction

http://wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com/2004/07/rick-moody-argument-its-fourth-of-july.html

Wish It Were Fiction. Things I couldn't make up, and wouldn't, if I could have. (Others, I'm just happy to report.) You can email me at Minokemeg@aol.com. Monday, July 05, 2004. THE RICK MOODY ARGUMENT. It's the fourth of July and I'm driving Harvey's car to the movie theater to pick up Meredith and her friends Rachel and Hannah. Meredith's idea is to do a little driving before the fireworks. She's got her permit; she's fifteen. I can be a nice mom, so I tell her yes. It's not until I see them in the rea...

wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com

Wish It Were Fiction

http://wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com/2006/05/grieving-kathy-has-told-me-this-story.html

Wish It Were Fiction. Things I couldn't make up, and wouldn't, if I could have. (Others, I'm just happy to report.) You can email me at Minokemeg@aol.com. Tuesday, May 30, 2006. Kathy has told me this story before. This time, we are in a car, driving into Charleston, South Carolina. The five old college roommates, leaving Kiawah Island at the end of a long weekend. Squeezing every last minute of intimacy out of the trip. Or was about to give birth? But what had they said about the bear? While they debate...

wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com

Wish It Were Fiction: FORGETTING OBAMA

http://wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com/2008/12/forgetting-obama.html

Wish It Were Fiction. Things I couldn't make up, and wouldn't, if I could have. (Others, I'm just happy to report.) You can email me at Minokemeg@aol.com. Thursday, December 04, 2008. Did I harbor a grudge because of my friendship with Alice Palmer? I couldn't resist dialing - rather, tapping in - the number. It rang. A woman on the other end rattled off a name. Excuse me? Why had I called Obama there? What might I have called about - or faxed to him? My life dissolves as I walk through it. Post Road: Fa...

wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com

Wish It Were Fiction

http://wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com/2007/07/geometry-i-am-at-vertex.html

Wish It Were Fiction. Things I couldn't make up, and wouldn't, if I could have. (Others, I'm just happy to report.) You can email me at Minokemeg@aol.com. Wednesday, July 18, 2007. I am at the vertex. The endpoint. That is, the intersection of the angle. Or perhaps I should call it the startpoint, since the two "rays" emanating in splayed directions are of my flesh. My son and daughter both left Evanston yesterday, to different compass points, both literal and figurative. Wesley and a friend took a bus e...

wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com

Wish It Were Fiction: 10/01/2010 - 11/01/2010

http://wishitwerefiction.blogspot.com/2010_10_01_archive.html

Wish It Were Fiction. Things I couldn't make up, and wouldn't, if I could have. (Others, I'm just happy to report.) You can email me at Minokemeg@aol.com. Monday, October 18, 2010. If I were a fashion designer, the clothes would be all about what's on the inside. Beautiful silk linings. Colorful finishes on the seams. Wild patterns on the inside of the collar, the placket. Brocade interiors showing when you rolled up the shirt or trouser cuffs. But I can't even sew. I wish someone would do this.

postcardfictioncollaborative.blogspot.com

Postcard Fiction Collaborative: March 2015

http://postcardfictioncollaborative.blogspot.com/2015_03_01_archive.html

Tuesday, March 3, 2015. Sailing The Painted Gliders by Bill. Above us all only truth and sky. And if truth is sky, then is it endless? Does it stretch and bend into the nothing that is infinity? And if our understanding of infinity is limited, is truth a compartment in which we store our nothing? Call it a placeholder. We find dogs to feed on the perimeter. We eat dog at night around the fires in barrels when we can no longer stand the sound of our own hypocrisy. Shorthand. What's shorter...One of the PF...

postcardfictioncollaborative.blogspot.com

Postcard Fiction Collaborative: June 2015

http://postcardfictioncollaborative.blogspot.com/2015_06_01_archive.html

Thursday, June 4, 2015. Sugar, Chef's Quality. Maybe, Sugar by Alan. Sweetness, why do we sway in the trees so? Where is it that those sudden wings fold in genuflections over hidden earths? What is it that the thirsty man said to the breeze before it lifted his desire and turned it into a dove? Can we meet again? I will meet you there. Some Other Ghost by Sherisse. Sweet Tea by Lyle. He took me away that night and I never returned. I had never known such sweetness. After a Dying Ray by Bill. One of the P...