“Tell me about Oliver.” I don’t have to talk into the vent loudly for John to hear me. I can hear him perfectly clear. He moves around, pacing in what must be a small section of the room. When he thinks, he stops. His feet are only a distraction. “He used to write letters to … Continue reading 14 (Oliver)
13 (The Best)
John is completely clear headed in the morning. I don’t even think he knows what he says at night. I look for hints of his younger self in the way he stands, but I find little. If he is curious in anything these days, it’s just the buffer of a newspaper describing far away places. … Continue reading 13 (The Best)
Just kidding. I'm back.
I really appreciate the readership and kind comments while writing this little blog. Unfortunately, due to time constraints, it will no longer continue.
12 (The Beginning)
“I was drafted into the war when I was 18. You never think you’re young when you’re that age, but to give you a real idea: I’d never kissed a girl. The only weapon I’d touched was a sling shot. On the weekends, I went out to the woods to hand roll cigarettes with my … Continue reading 12 (The Beginning)
11 (is war justifiable?)
“Is it just as victorious to prevent something bad from happening as it is to accumulate something good?” I’ve gotten used to John’s voice through the vent. During the day, I find myself eying him, wondering what he was like in his twenties. In fact, I think about him so much that I’ve neglected to … Continue reading 11 (is war justifiable?)
“Red is such an angry color.” John’s voice crackled through the vents. “It’s too loud. Fire trucks are red. Emergency exit signs. Blood. When I think about communism, red never seems to fit. If the idea is to take care of one another, red can’t really fit the masses - only the leader. I must … Continue reading 10 (Reds)
The silence lasted so long, I thought he hadn’t heard me. Maybe he really was just tapping to himself. Or maybe it wasn’t morse code at all. When my daughter Sue was in high school she had a crush on her social studies teacher. The man was almost my age and very good looking. More … Continue reading 9 (War)
8 (Are you there?)
“Are you there?” The words were louder, but not as repetitive. At first I wasn’t sure if the taps were correct. Or maybe my interpretation of Morse code was wrong. “Are you there” can mean so many different things even when the literal interpretation is right. ‘There’ is automatically hazy. How could anybody be ‘there’ … Continue reading 8 (Are you there?)
His name is John and he’s a complete mystery to me. He could be anyone. In the morning, stretched over his newspaper, he looks deeply thoughtful, but not because of the news. His eyes shift over the words, but then they snag on something and stop moving. They sit there, gazing at the black and … Continue reading 7 (John)