Joe Swanson

“Lunch Box Incident” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #290

     The Lunch Box Incident     Sometimes things happen when you least expect them to; such was the case with Jane.     Walking home from school was always more stimulating than on the way there. It wasn’t that I didn’t like school, I had negotiated a truce; I would tolerate it, it would tolerate me. So far it has been working pretty well. There are times when I’m disappointed, but my bar is high and the school seems to...

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“Lost” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #289

                                      Lost                      “The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.”    “You don’t know how you got here? That is unbelievable. You don’t remember me p...

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“You Taught Me to Never Lie” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #289

          You Taught Me to Never Lie    “Where are you off to?”    “Out!”    That is the kind of answer I expect from him. His response to all questions is precise and to the point; it is in deciding which point, that the problem lies.     I believe that I had something to do with his decisiveness. I began reading to him before he was born. I’d heard it was supposed to enhance fetus...

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“It Never Rains, It?” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #288

                     It Never Rains, It…?     “Why are you so wet?”    “It’s raining!”    “I hadn’t noticed.”    “What are they predicting?”    “Who?”    “The weather people of course. Earlier they were predicting rain in excess of six inches. Six inches used to be a catastrophe, now it takes twelve inches and ...

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“Tokyo Rows Cafe” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #287

                            Tokyo Rows Café     William Abbey killed Milford Small after a poolroom fight in nineteen sixty-eight.  It was a brief altercation in the pool room; each taking a turn practicing headlocks and left-hand jabs.  Milford was poked in the eye with a pool cue belonging to a patron of Dixie’s Pool Hall, who was observing their weekly tussle.  Milf...

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“Flying High” by Joe Swanson

    I had a brother who was 18 months younger than me. When you are close, but not quite in the same sphere of maturity, you remain in the atmosphere of a nature’s trick, competition. Survival of the fittest, even though you know nothing about it, has its hand up your shirt and you are unable to do little but become its puppet.    My parents both had jobs that removed them from the responsibility of being able to care for their children. The duty fell to my grandmother, who although she ...

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“A Shot in the Dark” by Joe Swanson

     “Why am I wearing this shirt?”      “I thought maybe it reminded you something important, birthday, anniversary. It has a certain sentimentality attached to it; it suits you. ”      “Nice of you, but it really isn’t my style. Chartreuse? I haven’t seen one like this since the eighties.”      “Everything that goes around come around. I’m sure you’ve heard that. And besides its your color.”    &n...

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“Negative's Negative” by Joe Swanson

     The old Pentax camera was at the bottom of a box of odds and ends. Apparently someone cleaned out the bureau and just threw everything in the box, its value marginal, its presence a nuisance.      The camera like so many things have become obsolete as they have been dwarfed by technology. We no longer need many of the things once necessary in capturing images, making phone calls, flying across the country, the world. Many of the things that have claimed to be an improvemen...

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“Laughter and Tears” by Joe Swanson

    “I want to thank you all for coming. I offer these one night stands to hopefully increase your ability to provide the best photos possible for one of the most memorable moments in people’s lives that they wish to preserve for the rest of their lives.”  Oscar’s one and only introduction to Photography 101.     Oscar Brand taught photography at the U of M for over thirty years. He retired several years ago; semi-retired actually. He was never one to sit around doing nothing. ...

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“Grand Canyons” by Joe Swanson

    “Take a step back. A little to the left. Bee, would you mind moving to your left, and Roger, to your right. Will those in front stoop slightly and those in the rear stand on your toes and take a step back. Christmas pictures only come once a year, let’s get this right.”      I don’t remember what was said after that. Screaming, crying, people begging God for an instant replay in hopes of reversing what had just happened. Apparently God wasn’t listening, because Be...

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“Black Whole” by Joe Swanson

   “Where you goin?”      “Does it matter?”      “Probably not, but then I’m not the one that’s leavin.”      That question that nags us as if it were a pimple on our soul we don’t want anyone to see. When you feel you’ve got nothing, and worse nothing left to lose, all you can do is throw up your hands and say…what? I’m done, I’m going to quit, drop out, all those things have been tried before, and it changed nothing.     ...

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“Trippin” by Joe Swanson

    “Rows and flows of angel hair, ice cream castles in the air, I’ve looked at clouds that way,” the lyric that sets the standards for the delusional subjectivism.     We’ve all looked at a dimensional phenomenon and took comfort from the familiarity of what we conjured from a psyche ripe for exploitation. The tree with a face, the ice cream container whose cover having been removed, reveals the face of God. It is not that we need an excuse to be considered crazy, but our pointing to the sky...

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“Perfect” by Joe Swanson

      The sky cloudless, the air carrying the scent from exotic gardens, mermaids rummaging through Davy Jones locker, and on the horizon the Jolly Roger’s three sails billowing with the bravado of ancient assumptions. Imagination is a wonderful invention attributed to whoever wants to claim liability, as most often it disappoints, as it is far easier than complying with exorbitant demands of a Mad Hatter.    Campgrounds, nothing like the boulevard we pitched our tents on in WWII, Korea,...

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“Do You Even Know?” by Joe Swanson

     “Do you even know what kind of plant that is?”      “Does it matter? I just like the way it looks.”      “It looks like the kind of thing that could kill us in our sleep, and our murders would remain an enigma in the eyes of our judicial system. No one would be able to say anything for certain, except that we were dead.”      “You become so dramatic when you think I should not buy something, whatever it is, but aren’t able to co...

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“Aspen and Me” by Joe Swanson

“You had a Grandfather many millennium ago who lived amidst this grandeur, until they cut him down. I don’t mean to disturb your sensibilities, but sometimes  the truth is the only way to see the significance of the life we have inherited.” He often began his stories that way. He did not know any of my ancestors, nor could he have. His name is Ralph, he’s an Aspen, I’m a Redwood. We both have scientific designations, but I’m not interested in the mechanics of identification. I know who I am, and that’s enough. H...

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