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“Think about others? I am sick and tired of thinking about others!” Barb Ellacott posted to the main message board of her favorite chatroom, SundayPainters.com. In person, Barb was meek and mild with everyone in her seniors’ low-rise condominium, but she loved SundayPainters (motto: “For Artists 9 to 90”) and felt she could let her hair down in the chatroom, even if it were long tangly tresses instead of the practical g...
The coal-fired power plant is closing, ready to turn off the lights forever in its industrial complex, and Petra shudders before the winds of change. She gamely attends the half-day retraining sessions, preparing to “deploy her skills in other sectors of the economy.” Late at night she seethes with the question Why me? but in daylight she obeys the poster plastered everywhere: Stay Calm and Carry On. She ...
The property agent cancels at the last minute. “But the key’s in a lockbox so you can still go in and have a look at this beauty,” she assures us in her breezy, overconfident way. With some key-jiggling, I unlock the door to the recently advertised “Your New View Awaits - Classy 1 BDRM Walk-up” I step inside, looping my finger around my purse strap, stretched as tight as it will go, and feel the purse’s weight bu...
They sat in the flickering darkness, watching the final credits. For two hours, Mark Dirac had shared part of the universe with Blanche, breathing in her scent, listening more to her small creaturely noises than to the Japanese movie, After Life. Two hours of bliss. Oh sure, he had worried a little about his body, about not mouth-breathing and not tongue-smacking, and not being overcome by the occasional hardeni...
The memo goes out a month after I join EasyCo: everybody must attend the team-building exercises. I must remember to bring my opener. My group includes Jaden, also a new hire. He’s cute in a J.Crew unstained T-shirt kind of way. Six big sleek buses trundle us out to a rustic hideaway, a monster log cabin where we assemble in the frigid air conditioning. Perch on chair-sized wooden cubes, we watch the opening cere...
Year 0 He dies during lockdown, on his way over to feed the cattle of a sick neighbor. The funeral was rushed and ill-considered, like a battlefield amputation. Two months later, when gatherings are greenlighted again, we decide to hold a memorial service. When we can’t find a decent photo of my notoriously camera-shy father, the event co-ordinator suggests we “highlight a personal item, something to focu...
In the hot, crowded market at Takapuna, sweat trickling under my arm, I pull out my sleek little Nikon 35Ti. It is the final month of our sabbatical in Auckland. Four-year-old Daniel is leaning toward a tray of baked goodies, small glazed confections slathered with gooey white, dotted with teasing reds, sprinkled with edible glitter. On the first Saturday every month, this vendor comes by with tray after tray of exotic d...
“The trees encountered on a country stroll Reveal a lot about that country’s soul… A culture is no better than its woods.” ― W.H.Auden Katrina and I were strolling down Lake Road, licking the stubs of the tiger-stripe ice cream cones we’d bought at Green’s Grocery. We were surround...
The world is awash in words, short words and long words, hasty words and well-thought-out words, words that cluster to form books and magazines and all kinds of semi-permanent media. What, then, to read? What teaspoonful to sip at while the tsunami breaks over your head? Behold Conan the Librarian. Conan is ready to recommend what you should read next. He is a librarian par excellence but is most brilliant...
We walked along the wind-blasted shore, where the scimitar wings of a lone osprey sliced great arcs through the late-winter sky. Syrita was about to drive back to the city. She shoved her hands deep in her pockets, cheeks ruddy from the breeze. “You’ve got Room 201 for the long weekend. No car, no cash, no credit card. No Wi-Fi. Just get the damn thing done. Okay?” I nodded. I felt immeasurable gratitude for her “...
“I remember the shooting… but even more… I remember the silence once the guns stopped,” Grimsby said. He paused and fixed an eye on his son, Grimsby Junior. “Does this speech sound like a barnburner or what?” The two men were in the side room to the stage, getting ready before the school assembly. Centering his tie knot, Junior grinned at their reflections in the full-length mirror. “Sounds great… go on.” G...
Today I dropped off three boxes of outgrown clothes: toddlers’ tops and pants; girls’ size-six summer stuff boys’ size-twelve shorts and tee-shirts. Not a tear shed, not a single sigh. My secret, you ask? Arm’s length. All were donations on behalf of my clients to the local Goodwill. I’m a professional packer-upper. My number is posted in the drop-off zones of every school and daycare in the city. Feel...
Pete never knew his dad lived in a palace. Like, a real palace, a magnificent shining palace of opalescent stone within sight of Mount Olympus, a palace with a grand hall that he would have to walk across one day. Luckily he was wearing his Dodgers’ cap and the long bill protected his eyes from the worst of the glare as he made his way inside. A palace attendant came running forward, saying, “Tut-tut, no ...
I was taking my evening constitutional through a well-kept graveyard when I saw, at a distance, the tombstone bearing my name. The Hamilton marker stood there, gaunt and gray, like a foul-smelling intruder loitering at the edge of a convivial garden party, an intruder keeping an eye on someone who owed an impossible debt. I was already in a somber mood, what with constant news of the pandemic, and my recent heart...
In the wincing bright light of a winter morning, Amir glided up the ski lift for the third time to the top of Jackrabbit Hill. All clear below, except for a stand of trees off to one side and one gray-green rock off to the other. Amir stepped off the lift, his skis crunching the snow with a voracious appetite. Ski vacay, hooray! He squeezed his knees and lifted his poles. A rabbit bolted from the trees, at first...
Sitting in my basement, waiting out the pandemic... lots of good stories happening here on Reedsy. Why no category for "mythology"? Just askin'
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