Tag: music

  • nemesis

    Talking with my wife today about recent events, particularly those involving our daughter. Making plans for when the exorcism should be performed, discussing when she might be able take our daughter out of the house for an hour or two. So I can work. She remarks that we should time it with the next full…

  • David

     My assignment for the magazine put me into his inner circle, where I could sit and observe first-hand what his life was like. I had five days with him. It was fascinating.  He was remarkably laid back and kind. He answered my questions thoughtfully and, to my eyes, didn’t try to hide any of himself…

  • daylight come and me wanna go home

    Sitting alone in the couch tonight, I slowly realize that I can hear someone singing.  Somewhere in the house, a man is singing. It has a muted quality, as though it is coming from very far away. I stand for a moment and listen.  I recognize it. The clear voice, the calypso intonation is unmistakeable.…

  • music again

    In my office tonight, getting ready to sit down and write… I stop. Music. Unmistakeable. Somewhere, someone is playing music. The house is asleep. I’m the only one awake.  Yet there it is. Unmistakeable. I go out and stand on the front porch, just in case it’s a neighbor. Nothing. Back inside, the house is…

  • echo | the recursive old woman

    Another entry from one of my old journals, this time from 1996. It begins simply enough… I’m standing in front of a shelf full of journals and books in the dead man’s rooms. You can read the rest here.

  • again

    The voices again tonight. No music this time, no men. One or two women, I can’t quite be sure. Possibly a child. I told my wife about the voices a few days ago. She could tell tonight that I was hearing them again. And, of course, she cannot. We keep a fan going at night,…

  • limbo

    So I have received a dose of poison and I am slowly dying. My body is slowing down and seizing up. I can feel my muscles and joints hardening… Dying. As I’m going, my father is holding me and I’m crying. I’m asking him questions. “Will I go to heaven? Tell [REDACTED] I’ll miss her.”…

  • the three old men

    Three old men. Drunken and cheaply dressed sit in a library and make vulgar innuendos to every girl who walks by. In the background a brass ensemble plays Cab Calloway tunes.