I lifted the cat and hugged her. Even though she’s shit on our bedroom floor and I stepped in it twice. Barefoot. Once, as I clomped my way to the john in the dark. Bladder so full of vodka, Sprite, and water that I thought I’d never go back to bed. The other, a weird … More the never end
(this is a work of fiction) Getting too old for these crazy things. Polishing off a bottle of wine at 10:14 pm, well after the kids have gone to bed. Too locked into the norm to believe I can write with the best of them—Stephen King, Margaret Attwood, the writers for Ozark. But I have … More ticking
Not many men write at night. After wives and kids have gone to bed. Those that do, I suspect, have pain. Or boundless energy. Or are so narcissistic that they don’t know any better. Dan Rather says, somewhere in his new book—and I’m paraphrasing here—that we shouldn’t feel sorry for people. Instead, we need to … More the mightiest of wolves
monarchs © 2012 Brooke Stevens My kids love without conditions. They care about people and animals. Water, dirt and sand, rocks and trees. They care about many things. They have not yet been spoiled by their surroundings. They want to help others. Pick up trash. Recycle. Give. Not only to those less fortunate but to everyone. … More running out of time
I don’t want to let things roll off my back. I want to react. To feel, to fight, to see, and believe. I don’t want to be in the background waiting my turn. I don’t want to stand by and listen as the ignorant and selfish try to pull us down and backward. I want … More something unsavory
8/18/18—For my kids. You gotta look up. Look forward. At the sky. If you stare too much at the ground beneath your feet, you miss out. On smiling strangers. Monarchs bouncing through the air. Clouds that look like animals. Maybe something from last night’s dream. It’s easy to miss out on opportunity, to put your … More Kids, look up.
This morning is a good one. It’s going to be another beautiful summer day in Alpena, Michigan. Clear sky, probably high 70s. Little to no wind. Except for cars passing down 2nd Avenue every so often and crows cawing and heckling a few blocks over, all is quiet in the neighborhood. Julian gassed up with … More church doughnuts