Spitball Army

Assessment: Carries pad and pen everywhere. Cuffs buttoned at wrists, always. Smirks instead of smiling. Crosses legs like a girl.

[Read more →]

Today was a quiet day. Work was alright. It was cold, just like yesterday. It might snow Friday. But maybe not. Cold, either way.

[Read more →]

Them shoes she sent got here all right. But a man was on the same train as the shoes; he come here to relieve me so I got booted. – Written by my grandfather, Booker Esker Jones, in a 7 August 1931 letter to my grandmother, Elon Mae Hardin, and only slightly paraphrased by me.

[Read more →]

BZZZT! Wake. Teeth. Cats. Swim. Tea. News. Morning constitutional. Bathe. Clothes. Keys. Work. Desk. Sit. Q u i e t.

[Read more →]

He walked the grocery store aisles, office badge hanging at his chest by a lanyard, drawing stares as if he were amply mammaried.

[Read more →]

His elderly cat moans from the center of the room. It’s Kitty Alzheimer’s, the Vet says. You just need to remind her where she is.

[Read more →]

The stuffy bus, stage door fatties, the hydraulic-ice-cream-cone-stage-entrance: life after American Idol wasn’t what he expected. – Written by @EdBankson.

[Read more →]

His fists pound the bully; he exacts revenge, astride the tough’s chest, channeling his aggressor in a radiant moment of re-spite.

[Read more →]

The cellist rocked; his partner’s hands rolled over the keyboard. They followed Beethoven with “Truckin’.” The audience: grateful. solow-auerbach_duo_blend_dead.html

[Read more →]

I teetered at the edge. My foothold crumbled. Flipping in midair, I tried flailing, helpless as the Venus de Milo. Then I awoke.

[Read more →]