Man of Mine by Emily Suzanne Young

“Isn’t this all a bit – I don’t know – American?

It was the only description I could think of that fully captured my distaste. I sat in the kitchen with my arms crossed, looking up at where Jack, my husband, and William, his publicist, were standing on the other side of the kitchen island; the low-hanging light above us illuminated their faces as they watched my every reaction.

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Who Knows Who Lived in My House, Built in 1742, or Your House by Tom Sheehan

For history and legend sakes, certain attributes, character traits if you will, have to be appointed here at the beginning of This old house (B. 1742), home for more than half a century of my life, and This old room, dressed with computer by me for the last 28 years. Yet I swear thick-cut Edgeworth pipe tobacco bears its welcome as strong as my grandfather’s creaking chair, diminutive Johnny Igoe’s chair. This most memorable compartment was also his room for 20 years of literate cheer, storied good will, the pleasantries of expansive noun and excitable verb, and his ever-lingering poems, each one a repeated resonance, a victory of sound and meaning and the magic of words. Yet be of stout spirit, for the chair mocks time only in the clutch of darkness thick as the eternal void, and the tobacco’s no longer threatening in its gulp.

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Week 196 – A Lady-Part, A Nipple End And A Happy Anniversary!!

Before I start writing nonsense and swearing and being nasty and things, I would like to let you all know that our lovely Diane is celebrating her 50th Wedding Anniversary this weekend.

I find it a bit strange to think that one of my best friends is a net friend and they were getting married when I was celebrating my first birthday. This medium has its plus points.

To Mr and Mrs Dickson and all their family, I hope that they have a wonderful time this weekend.

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Mushrooms and Trolley Cars (Amanita Colyptraderma and Electric Street Cars) by Tom Sheehan

A friend of mine for many years, Eric Peavy, lived on the third floor of a tenement house right near the center of the town square graced by a circular green holding two huge elm trees with grand columns and huge umbrella limbs that spread for the season at hand. He was apt to break into an on-going conversation with a connecting remark based on his third–floor view of the square and what had come into his mind.

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