At work I recommended someone go to the Coca-Cola Museum in Atlanta. I told you about recommending it to someone. “I always wanted to go back there,” I said. “You did? You never told me,” you said.

The lounge in our hotel —— the Oregon coast —— one guest, wheelchair bound, in residence for the full summer season, asks us in her Main Line Philadelphia accent, "Have you come far?" "No, not far. Flew from Salt Lake…

Sunday afternoon was the best. The kids drew straws for a chance to sit on the stool in the Kitchen with the broken armrest. I think mom thought it was an antique but it was just a piece of shit her dad picked up second hand.

This couldn’t be a bar; I was with my mother. It took a few seconds for the collision of senses to clear, and I realized the restaurant had not only one, but two flat screen televisions hung in their dining room, and a fake fire blazing in the fireplace.

The dissertation lay dying. The operating table was a mess, littered with all of Jody’s surgical implements. Diagrams, post-it webs, red pens, black pens, paper clips, the locket of St. Dymphna (or Jude?) inherited from her mother, and sprawled across it

Man, technology fuckin’ sucks! I been ridin’ dis train for almost fif’een years now.

“Heard Gotchalk passed away last weekend.” “Gotchalk died last year. You mean Gotsill. He just passed away. Classmate of mine. Lived in the house just up from the phone company.” Outside, cars drive up and down Elm street. Inside, three men…

Suppose I was to suddenly get up from the table, race across the floor and hurl me through the single-paned window out onto the sidewalk. Grammatically, it's all wrong, but you're probably thinking about the window and …