In Other Words
These are my other words, writings other than novels, because sometimes my stories are short. Sometimes my stories are old. Sometimes they're incomplete. Other times they aren't stories at all since (there was a time I fancied myself a poet). This is the home for all those other words.
Click on the picture to go to the main page for each section. Click on the title listed below the picture to go to that particular picture.
My assistant asks if my client if he would like anything to drink in the bubbliest voice she can conjure. I can tell she’s hoping for the answer to be no so she can scurry back to her desk and finish reading an article in Architectural Digest. I saw the magazine sitting on her desk, she’s not very gifted at hiding. The Office Manager hires the assistants with little input from the financial reps. My job, I like. My co-workers, on the other hand, are from hell.
I’m a rarity at my company:
I’m a Democrat (more anti-Republican than actual practicing democrat).
I’m average height for my gender.
My head is still covered by hair.
I’m not overweight nor have the appearance of being due any moment.
I have common sense (or uncommon sense since there’s nothing common about having sense in these parts).
I don't look two decades older than my age.
Milan truly believed ignorance was bliss. Not intellectual ignorance, but ignorance from her reality. When she got bills in the mail she just didn't open them because not seeing the amount due meant she didn't have to pay, which she couldn't afford to do anyway. She used ignorance to cope with reality.
It was 10:40 pm on December 1. She sat in her dorm room alone streaming music. That day she had taken an HIV test as part of the campuses World Aids Day. After a year of simply not wanting to know and several months of conceiving every possible reason it couldn't happen to her, she finally conceded to doing what was right for her. The days it would take for the results to come back would be tough. Fear of a positive test had already begun to set in.
There were a lot of stories on talk shows in the early 90s about women trapping wealthy men, primarily famous athletes, with pregnancies. That was the inspiration for this short I wrote for a creative wriing class back then.