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Home Alone

He didn’t know what to make of it. Hearing the hammering outside, knowing now that the last window was boarded up. It had been the secret little doorway to his new home. And now he was stuck. There would be no getting out without finding something to pry one of those big foreclosure boards off one of the doors or the windows. Man, they put those things on tight, he thought. Everybody’s so worried about squatters. He’d worry about it in the morning. It made him sad, though, that he was missing his meeting with the lady. Oh, for sure, she didn’t think much of his new digs. The look on…

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Not My Question to Answer

“Are they really brother and sister?” I don’t know. What does that question even mean? What do you mean by that question? Do you mean: Are they biologically brother and sister? Do you mean: Do they regard themselves as brother and sister? What is it you want to know? When you get the answer to…

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The Girl in the Stairwell

The R.A. told us to go to our rooms and lock our doors. She wouldn’t answer questions but we got the buzz that the first floor R.A. had been found tied and gagged in the stairwell leading to the dorm basement. “Go to bed,” she said. “The police are here. They’ll figure out what happened. In the meantime, stay in your rooms. No bathroom, no shower, just stay put. I’ll tell you when you can come out.” My roommate, as she did every night, walked into the closet to change into her nightgown. She was tall and silent, older, maybe mid twenties to my eighteen, large and unbelievably oafish, otherworldly.…

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No Strolls Tonight

That it was dark didn’t worry him much, more that the board-up man might have nailed the last window shut, the one he’d been using as the door to his little place, home would be airtight now, no more coming or going.

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My Mother’s Wedding Dress

I never doubted she had made her wedding dress with her own hands. It’s what she would have done. There wouldn’t have been money to buy a dress and no one did that anyway in the small town where she lived. People made their clothes. When times were good, a seamstress came to the house.…

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Does Saying Make It So?

A few days ago a Facebook friend posted that she was “In a Relationship” with another person who is an actual, real life friend of mine and I wondered to myself, what event or decision precipitated that declaration? Is it a thing that one person asks the other if it’s okay to change one’s status…

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Where Do You Draw Your Blogging Line?

Who reads what you write and does it matter? Yesterday, my cousin, a brilliant guy, several years older than me, who travels the country attending conferences and making speeches because, he claims, he can’t sell his business and retire, although I’m pretty sure he believes if he quits running at top speed all the time, he will keel over in a heap, sent me an email, written at the very crack of dawn, to tell me I was a “very brave lady.” He said he’d ‘stumbled’ on a post from a few years ago. It had to have been “The Wire,” I thought.  Nothing else would have elicited that kind…

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Fifty Shades is Cool Because?

Unless Fifty Shades of Grey ends with the chick exacting revenge on Mr. Grey by nailing his stuff to the barn door, I’m not interested. Actually, even if if did end that way, I wouldn’t be interested. I hate scenes of violence, bondage, torture, oppression, subjugation, imprisonment, gross displays of male power over women as well as acquiescence and cooperation with same. I won’t debate the concept of consenting adults being free to do what they like. Of course, they are. But I would beg the question under what circumstances and promise or threat of regard is one person suffering pain to make another person fulfilled. Does this hurt? Are…

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Where is Your Fine Hat?

I woke up in the night, found a pencil and wrote the words “I miss my mother’s things” on a receipt stuck in a book on my bedside table. What set me off was reading about one of General Custer’s subordinates, described as looking as if he had just stepped out of a bandbox. The…

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A Blessing on This Day

Talked today with a woman just retired from the shelter she founded years ago, she beamed describing bringing homeless people inside, hardest to serve, rough, drunk, rule-breakers, her people, ‘there but for fortune’ she told me, no distance between us and them.

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