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My son thinks he's French.His accent was cute at first, but it's starting to get on my nerves. If he asks for another glass of Beaujolais I'm gonna go to jail for child abuse.Yesterday, I walked upstairs to make him turn his new Jacques Brel album down and I swear it…
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I arrived at 2:00 a.m. California time, taking the red-eye flight from Chicago to save on money. I had to take a cab all the way out to my son's so-called "trailer park" in the high desert country outside of Riverside because my son Harris had already lef
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Fridays always said it was time for golf,which left me wide, wide like the space between your teeth,on the stoop til you'd let me share your palm with your nine iron.I was a utility. Your gap toothed divot tool or a headcover that had your smile.Sometimes you'd gawk back,…
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Snow Bird
Then Bess was officially a Snow Bird. She was on the waiting list to become a permanent resident at the camp as soon as the expansion they were planning was completed. But it was being held up by some county people who were doing every
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Bess spent the summer that year at a lakeside court in Lake Elsinore. They told her she only had to spend three months there, before she was allowed to have a spot of her own at the nudist camp. Just three months. But Lake Elsinore seemed like something
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They were starting to get winded. The boy, his father and his little brother were hiking up a hill, cutting a diagonal path through hay-colored grass towards an outcrop of craggy boulders below the hill's summit.
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We fucked in the backseat like the verse of a b-side, and that was enough to make him think my boys were half of his body.
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You would never see me the same again. You'd always be peaking at me from behind your mother's apron.
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After she died, clearing out her safe deposit box at the local bank, I found more numberplates.
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“The price of everything's gone up,” I say. “But I don't have to buy you chocolate if it's costing too much.” She says nothing and bends her head again, gnarled hands slowly breaking a family-sized chocolate block into pieces.
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The boy giggled, splashing his father and howling at the cold.
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Ladies, I don’t understand your world.
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Just three or four seconds ago you were in a Power Rangers costume and you needed me to wipe your nose. This is a nice surprise but the transition is awkward and a bit painful.
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12th August: I have yet to tire of Madrid. Some come and go but there is always a group of the best people to dance and drink and flirt with. (I can frequently accomplish all three simultaneously.)
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My son’s lived in my basement since his wife, two years ago, died of breast cancer...
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