Joe Swanson

“Yes, We Can” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #71

Yes, We Can! “Any questions? If there are no questions, we shall begin. Do I have a nomination for Chairperson… no? If not, I will assume the position... I will preside over the meeting. Now…” He rambled on for a good half hour. It was difficult to hear, so I got only part of what he was saying. We were seated on bar stools around a pool table, that doubled as a meeting table.  The plywood top, usually used to keep the hurricane winds outside where they belong, was placed over the felt to keep any acciden...

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“The Switch” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #71

The Switch “If you’ll come this way please, we’ll be able to begin.” Her words seemed innocuous, not quite what I was expecting, but then I find that more often to be the reality of situations I find myself in, than the imagined gratifications of external events that I know shouldn’t exist, but sometimes do. I couldn’t help but entertain the question, “Where are the aromas meant to blow your mind.” The exact wording almost, of the notice stapled to the utility pole across from Beerman’s Household Emporium. I found the address provide...

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“Rube” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #71

Rube         Rube Goldberg Junior was nothing like his father. He, unlike his father, who had dedicated himself to the peculiarly intricate connections between things, people, and situations, found people to be little more than over rated guests of a planet that deserved better. His theories propelled thought to a level where it did not exist as imagined but took on an identity of the one who observed it. Envision a maze where there was more than one possibility of a destination. ...

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“Paczki” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #71

Paczki “Do you remember Grandma’s…whatever they were.” “Would help if you’d be a little more specific.” It is difficult being more specific when you don’t know what you are asking about. Not the first time I’ve been in that situation, and I know it won’t be the last.  It began, I believe, at a gathering of family. Some holiday event, probably Christmas, but it could have been Easter. Those seem to be the times we remember past family events and attempt to dredge from the past, answers to questions that have remained d...

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“Apprehension” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #70

Apprehension      Those first steps, unremembered as a first word, encouraged by those who have forgotten what it means to enjoy not remembering. It is for those who no longer recall the inconsistencies born of hope, and the failure that provides impetus to try again or quit, that I commend.      It is that time when judgement means nothing as it has been corrupted by time; dimmed memories of what might have been, had it not been for the reluctance prompted by insecurity in one’s own abili...

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“Up, Up, and Away” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #70

Up, Up, and Away “Do you believe it is possible for someone to do something, and not remember until it is too late, why they did it?” “Don’t see why not.” I remembered Bonner. One night he was bored. He gets fidgety, the only way to describe it. He starts scratching at itches, itching scratches, and generally bringing the whole atmosphere of the gathering to something that rivals a death march. One night, he says, after I’m sure having considered all the possibilities, that we should go to the ski hill. None of us w...

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“Truthy” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #70

Truthy: “Have you ever told the truth to anyone in your life, besides me. You have told me the truth, haven’t you?” “I can’t get all up in the air about what I did, didn’t do, might do, probably won’t.” All I know is that in that movie where someone is supposed to have shot the president, and didn’t, and the senator behind the whole thing, says, “The truth is what I say it is.” Now that is a guy who knows something about truth. I knew she wasn’t going to let it go. It’s like eating or fighting or stealing, if you is good...

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“For God's Sake” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #70

For God’s Sake “Well, what do you think? I know it’s a difficult question, but then the answer is even more difficult. I don’t think it’s any reason to procrastinate though. You’ll have all eternity to do that. You do believe in eternity, don’t you?” His questions, they seem to intensify with His every appearance. The first one I remember as though it were tattooed on the inside of my eyelids. “Do I exist?” Who asks questions like that. It tends to set the atmosphere on fire with speculation that n...

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“Grasshopper Soup” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #69

                                Grasshopper Soup    “What is that you got in that bottle you’re holding so tight. It might just be killed if you don’t lessen up some.” Bellmore continued speaking as if he were reading the contents on a sardine tin. “Must be mighty important, you got such a death grip on her. Don’t intend to take it from you boy, if...

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“There But For Fortune” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #69

There But for Fortune “Can I have your attention please.” His words barely audible over the clinking of glasses and the slurping, which although considered by many to be beyond the breach of social etiquette, was, and had been a tradition in the Biltmore family for more than two hundred years.  As far as Sam Biltmore was concerned, “Etiquette be Damned!” He had not planned on informing the family until after this festive holiday season, but Aunt Mary was feeling poorly, not expected to be around for his next holiday extravaganza, host...

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“What Can I Do For You” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #68

What Can I Do For You “What is this?” “What does it look like?” It looks like a note, because, it is a note, written on what looks to be the back of an advertisement proclaiming the double decker to be the juiciest burger ever, “Subliminal.” I look from the paper into his steely black eyes, bulbous face, and habitually worn stocking cap, adorned with the remnants of dead leaves.  I am not a believer in fate, destiny, or really any insinuation that infers a Deja vu fog covers any situation in life, but I was considering changin...

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“Bombs Bursting In Air” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #68

Bombs Bursting In Air I thought it was the sun. It’s daily formal rehearsal, the horizon silhouetting the mountains to the East, a rooster proclaiming a new day open for business, but it is only 2 AM. Our French doors overlook the valley that flows from the mountains. Our usual sunrise experience occurs, depending upon the time of year of course, somewhere between when it gets light and when I wake up. This new light is blinding. I look across the room at the clock, two minutes after two. I nudge her. she r...

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“This or That” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #68

This or That This was supposed to be the best day of their lives, and now…? “Doesn’t it always seem to be the case, that just when you reach for that last cookie you’d been fantasizing about all day, it is… “Yup! And I’m really sorry about that. I had no idea it was the last one. I have to admit, I never even looked into the jar. There’s something about that face on your pig cookie jar, that makes me feel creepy. So I don’t spend anymore time in its presence than necessary. I usually lift the top of its h...

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“Henry” by Joe Swanson

Henry “My God, is that you?” Who else would it be? Here I am back not fifteen minutes, and who should I run into, but him. Next, he’ll want to know what I’m doing here; he hasn’t seen me in twelve, thirteen years? Well, I’ve been gone, left, and for good reason. I’m here now because, well, I don’t really know, but there’s something that I can’t explain pulling me back. It’s kind of like a curse, if I don’t do it, black cats are going to cross my path. I’ll be walking under ladders the rest of my life; I had to come...

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“Memory of a..........” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #68

Memory of a… It had been twenty-four years since she last saw the place, and it hadn’t changed at all. Her mind crawling back, in search of memories.  Her initial feeling leaving her in search of…what? She reminded herself, that that time had gone. It seemed so long ago since they’d left, and yet, only yesterday. The bird bath remained in the center of the rose garden where she had placed it, an anniversary gift from him. She could see her face reflected in the mirrored water. She noticed the changes, the facial line...

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