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The winner of this game goes to the city championship. They are playing on a brown, weed and dirt field at Driscoll Middle School. The score is 16-14 for Tom Browne, the young man’s school. He is playing free safety and there is maybe a minute left in this game. Driscoll comes out in twins.Continue reading “Bound for the City Championship”

They are walking back to their car from dropping a video at a home. A girl approaches, waif-skinny, stringy brown hair, an army green coat over a stained white shirt. “Excuse me,” she says. “Do you all have any change?” The young man stops. “We don’t carry cash.” “Even, like a buck or two wouldContinue reading “Take Me to the Place I Love”

The thing about this fight is that it never really is a blowout. It’s quiet, with eye rolls, sighs, and “fine, if that’s what you want to do since apparently all we’re going to do is what you want” along with, “what? You’re the only one who has a problem with my idea.” But theContinue reading “I Am the Rain”

He is sitting on the living room couch when the vision unfolds. The vision is so clear that he cannot sit still. He arises and goes out to walk the neighborhood. The original pilgrims are everywhere—their spirits are ministering, helping the heirs of the Kingdom. Millions mill around the city for Plymouth 400, and theContinue reading “Covid, Not Plymouth 400”

The shadow is in their room again. He sits on the foot board. He has substance—you cannot see through him—but is shadow. When he is near, death feels close by, like a cold stone sitting on the man’s chest. It is nights like these that his father’s aging body appears. “What’s wrong?” “What do youContinue reading “The Shadow in the Room”

They are in the apartment quad together with Tommy. Tommy has stolen an unhooked padlock from somewhere. Strangely, the unhooked part has a sharp point on it. “Check it out.” And he pokes Stephen’s hand. Stephen starts to cry. “Why did you do that?” “I thought it was cool.” “It wasn’t.” He punches Tommy inContinue reading “My Dad Will Beat Up Your Dad”

All the stories I post are short-shorts of incidents that have happened, as best as I can remember them. My memory of these, of course, has shifted over time, and what they mean to me has shifted as well. I do not write or post them in order mostly because once an experience is internalized,Continue reading “About My Stories”