Category Archives: Bus Stop Stories
Sleeping in a Bed of Incense
Oh someone is breathing down my back again. Sending icy chills down my spine. I can feel them even in my stomach, lungs and heart. What’s left. This dark dark week when I feel like I’ve already been sent to … Continue reading →
Martini Morning
It’s April 9. There was that thing I was supposed to do about Christmas. There was that thing I was supposed to do about Easter. I will get to it. And then maybe I will understand something. Christmas has come … Continue reading →
Rain, White Candles and a Flock of Finches
It’s still raining. It’s still cold. The garden is still there and the garden still calls. It is still hard to get up these days. October suddenly is slapping everyone in the face (actually it is already November 13). I … Continue reading →
Nabokov Summer Day Part II
Steamy it was, but a good kind of steamy. It’s August now and I didn’t think the “dog days” were coming because suddenly late July was so cool. I read somewhere that dog days don’t refer to hot and muggy … Continue reading →
The Moon Saying Goodbye
I should have known how it would be today. Something was wrong the moment I got up. Fear of weather again. Blizzards. Snow two feet deep. Rain and snow, freezing cold and then sixty degrees. The sky opening up and … Continue reading →
“Into the Mystic”
I don’t know why I am writing about dinosaurs and Van Morrison, kicking his legs on “The Last Waltz”. These are pictures from a thousand years ago. He was singing “Caravan”. He was so chubby, almost busting out of his … Continue reading →
This Savage Place
Almost all the leaves blew off the maple last night. Suddenly Indian summer, the prolonged weird heat just vanished and cold and wind took its place. My mother used to hate the wind. She stood at the doorway howling at … Continue reading →
The Bludgeoning Sky
via Daily Prompt: Bludgeon Bludgeon. Sounds like a stew you might eat, or an old-fashioned death. When savages were savages who didn’t know the art of killing. Rhymes with dungeon, curmudgeon or maybe even illusion. Like the one you have … Continue reading →
The Raining Sun
Cold this morning, especially earlier in bedroom. Too lazy to get the comforter out or another blanket– there was no blanket– laundry backup. In the dark I rummaged in the linen closet for something— a duvet cover and threw it … Continue reading →
The Dilemma of Dismay
via Daily Prompt: Dilemma Dilemma. Sounds like a nineteenth century word, to describe a feeling you might have, at the prospect of tea with the wrong person, wearing the wrong kind of hat, whose gloves are slightly soiled at the … Continue reading →
whennothingworks 