1. Can I count the picture? It’s a random shot from the window of the bus while on my trip to Indonesia nearly two years ago.
“Not like that Emma. More like… “ Lisa let the camera fall to her side. Her brow twisted in consternation or maybe puzzlement. Or maybe both. Emma kind of thought it was both. No matter what it meant that Emma wasn’t delivering whatever Lisa wanted for this video. Just that she was so sure she got it. What was wrong?
Desmond slipped the electronic surveillance device under the dashboard while the perp run into the convenience store. As soon as the guy hopped in the driver’s seat, Desmond took up the conversation where they’d left off. “So, did you kill this one too?” “What? The clerk? Nah. Didn’t have to. Walked right past him with the goods in hand. It’s cause I’ve got the devil’s own luck.” “But that other guy?” “Yeah. Yeah, I killed him.” He had him! A […]
I’ve gained weight. It’s not all swelling in the legs. Maybe I should go back on my diet. 13 things I’ve eaten today: 1. broccoli – fresh crowns 2. chocolate 3. pork chop 4. yam 5. cereal 6. chocolate 7. peanuts 8. tea 9. bread 10. peach jam 11. banana 12. chicken soup 13. chocolate Yep, the only old food allergy still bothering me is pineapple. If I don’t get a grip, they’ll be back.
Emma had friends? Since when did Emma have friends? Jim sat in the van and stared. He did vaguely recall meeting some guy who had been walking her home one night, but certainly not any girls and certainly not so many people over all. And the way they treated her – like she was the main thing. Like she was popular. Like Jim would ever let something like that happen!
I’m doing fine. Still not real comfortable sitting at my desk for long periods of time, and no where near ready to crawl around on the floor for craft projects, but sleeping through the night and not hurting much. I find it a bit ironic that my handicap parking permit should arrive just as I’m reaching the point where I’m fairly confident about shopping on my own two feet. Pr-op, when I could barely stand to stand because of all […]
My desk is upstairs in an office with no comfortable places to rest. I’m just not spending much time there right now. Instead, I’ve taken over a corner of the living room with the recliner. Here’s what’s accumulated 1. A comforter that covers me most of the time. 2. A trash can 3. A bottle of water 4. A jug of water for refills 5. My cell phone 6. A borrowed book – half read 7. A laptop 8. Another […]
Sonoma lay flat on her back in a nest of blankets with her head wedged between the van’s driver’s seat and the front passenger seat so she could hear the conversation between Trent and “Big Jim”. She’d slept through an hour of the trip from Minneapolis and Madison, but didn’t feel very refreshed. “How you doing, Darling? Back any better?” He reached down from the passenger seat and gave her hand a squeeze.
So, did I mention I’m learning to walk again? Or so my physical therapist thinks. Frankly, I could limp along just fine the day after surgery. I haven’t bothered with a cane for over a week. If I leave the house, I bring it with me just in case I have to walk on snow or ice, but I don’t even pretend to use it. I just carry it in my hand like a baton. The physicians assistant and the […]
There were 32 doors in Ruth’s house. She knew for sure because she’d counted them when her cat, Sargent Pepper, insisted on trying each and every one. The first door she opened let out on a snowbank. Sargent Pepper gave her such a pitiful yowl, as though the cold and wet might be a personal insult. This was followed by a tour of every room, and every closet until at last they returned to the back door, where, of course, […]
Until the muscles and tendons around my new, mechanical hip have mellowed out, I’m supposed to be very careful to avoid certain positions. Those positions are, specifically, never let the chest and knee get closer than ninety degrees. Never point the toes inward. Never let the knees get close, let alone cross. And never twist the hips around to look behind you. 1. 90 Degrees? Piece of cake. The arthritis hasn’t let me get my knee up any higher than […]
“Hey! Whatcha doing?” The old geezer shouted his question as he walked across the Walmart parking lot. He had crusty jeans, but a fresh plaid shirt over a faded but clean tie-dye T-shirt. His long, gray hair was pulled back in a frizzy, puny ponytail. Great. Probably another refugee from the Hippie generation. Jim ignored him. “You really wanna be doing that? Seams like a real waste.”