1)
The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.
Or so they say.
The line or path that I have followed throughout my life has been anything but straight.
My path has twisted and turned. It has swerved unexpectedly, and sometimes, my path has led me to a dead-end.
Leaving me no other choice than to turn around and try again.
My path has painfully gone Continue reading
Yesterday morning began with trips down to the basement, scratching my head, and looking for boxes of Christmas decorations, which apparently, would be much easier to find if I just listened to my wife when putting things away.
The tree stand was to the right side of the room and the clear boxes of ornaments and tinsel was on the left. The wife brought up the Christmas stockings and the Garlands. We found the white icicle lights that hang in our windows; we found the Santa decorations that go in the bathroom and on the other shelves throughout the house. We found the small white Christmas tree that stands in my daughter’s bedroom window; we found all of the little figurines that we place around the white tree in our own version of a miniature, winter wonderland.
Then, of course, out comes the white Menorah with electric blue lights. This decoration is out of respect for the religion I was raised with. These decorations sit on one of the shelves in my daughter’s room, along with cottony-white pillows of fake snow, blue and red Dreidel lights that string above her bed (A Dreidel is that four-sided top that we spin around on the floor) and next to the white Menorah, which stands on puffs of pretend snow on the shelf next to her bed, there is a small white snowman with tiny lights that shine inside of its crystal-like belly. Its eyes and a mouth made of coal; it has twig arms and a pointy orange carrot for a nose. Continue reading
Man on the 6:46 train out of Pennsylvania Station tried to push passed me . . .
I suppose he wanted to push through so he could find a better seat. He wanted to get through the train doors before anyone else and have better options of which way to go, like left or right, isle seat or window.
Either way, he would still have a seat and the train would get him home at the same time as everybody else.
I have seen this man on the train before. He does the same thing every time. He comes dressed in a suit and tie. He is somewhat middle-aged and heavyset. He carries a brief case and he is Continue reading
Last night, I sat alone in a black office chair behind a small round lunch table where each morning, I pour coffee down my throat and finish a warmed pastry or swallow one of the usual breakfast sandwiches that come from either the deli on 43rd Street or the one on 3rd Avenue.
The door, which leads to the outside corridor of a maintenance floor, was closed. This door is what separates the building engineer’s locker room from the rest of the building.
The room itself was quiet. It was the kind of quiet that makes your ears ring. The room was the sort of quiet that leaves too much room to think and somehow amplifies a sense of lonesome reflection. Continue reading
We were talking about the yesterdays,
you and me . . .
But understand something,
the wreckage of your past
will eventually fade
and the memories of who you were
will eventually become distant
and lose its sting.
Understand that over time,
days come between now and then.
Your 30 days will Continue reading
Years ago, I watched a documentary on filmmaking, in which, the producer explained the importance of sound and scenery. He explained how different backgrounds and different sounds or styles of music can change the moods of the film.
As an example, the producer took clips from different Continue reading
Billy walked through the side gate of a white-picket fence next to the detached garage at Mike’s house. It was beyond the midnight hour and the star-filled sky was accompanied with a full moon.
Billy was covered in a long, black overcoat. The wool collar was pulled up to cover his neck from the cold wind that blew through the streets of his somewhat normal, but otherwise suburban town.
His filthy, but untied, white shoelaces to his Continue reading
Thanksgiving morning, November 27, 2014
I was raised in a decent sized family; however, years and distance as well as arguments, and in some cases, old age has changed the size of the guest list at my Thanksgiving dinner table.
The need for more tables and chairs and has dwindled down. There are no huge piles of coats on the bed in one of the bedrooms at say, my Aunt Sondra’s house, which I used to play in when I was little.
I used to hide beneath the pile of coats that were thrown on the bed . . . and I am not sure why I did this. I suppose hiding in a pile of coats and screaming “Roar,” or “Boo!” when someone came in to find their jacket is something little boys do—or at least it was something I did.
It has been decades since I Continue reading
The light fell to the delicate flicker of two candles which stood in the corner of the bedroom. She moved from the bed and then over towards the closet door.
“Where are you going,” he asked.
“Nowhere,” she replied with a teasing smile.
“I just want to get something.”
Tucking herself behind the door of his walk-in closet, she undressed and slipped from her clothes. She reached down to retrieve the blue, buttoned down dress shirt he had been wearing that day.
She quickly slid her arms through the sleeves, and fluffed her long blonde hair over the collar.
She left the shirt unbuttoned to allow him a view of her cleavage, which pushed the shirt opened and teased him with an inside look of her well-shaped breasts. Continue reading
You used to be the size of my forearm
You fit between my wrist and the inside of my elbow.
I know this because I used to hold you in one arm
I would look down at you . . .
and you would look up at me.
You once weighed less than Continue reading
The Written Addiction 