Real Fiction: Another Bad Dream

Winter, Downtown New York City, 1989

Eric sat in a small rundown apartment with a fallen light bulb dangling from two wires in the middle of the ceiling and hanging over a cluttered coffee table filled with old crumpled paper bags, an overflowing ashtray with mashed cigarettes, empty beer bottles, empty Continue reading


Penicillin And All That Jazz . . .

I was telling you about one of my theories the other day. I have a new one now. I call this one my Penicillin Theory. It came to me when I was looking at one of my pill bottles in the medicine cabinet last night.
The pills inside are pink and somewhat large. The doctor’s name is irrelevant and so is much of the information on the label itself. The only thing important here is the medication, which in this case is Amoxicillin, and the directions, were that I take this medication two times per day for ten days or until the medication was finished. Did I follow these directions?

Well, kinda . . .

I was sick as a dog the other week. I hadn’t been sick like this in a long time. Moreover, I haven’t had strep throat in more than a decade. My throat was soar. My body was achy. I had a fever and while Continue reading