/yesod

Tag: The Midlands

  • almost

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    …as we’re passing through the room, I stop and take note of our surroundings: The concrete walls of the service tunnel, the exposed pipes . . . it’s all so familiar. Then I have it. In a flash of recognition, I turn to my companions — he is tall and dark skinned, she is waif-like…

  • dark ride

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    I am surprised to see a Ferris wheel looming over the downtown district, pale against the darkening sky. As evening descends, we make our way towards the carnival. It is dark everywhere. There are no flickering lights, no music — just the mechanical clack and clank of the rides, the muted murmur of the crowds.…

  • david and mickey

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    It’s night and we’re driving, my friend David and me. I’ve known him a long time. Since we were in sixth grade, I think. We’ve stayed in touch that whole time, mostly. Well, we fall out of touch and then back into touch. We haven’t seen each other in years — almost twenty, I think…

  • fragments

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    …a long bodied cat, muscular and lean, stalks through the room — insane eyes, gaping mouth drooling as it swivels its head from side to side . . . its long gray fur matted and ragged, trailing after it in the air… …I turn and see the electrical plug floating in the air before my…

  • just another white trash weekend

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    …for some unknown reason, our family has been relocated to what can only be charitably described as “the bad part of of town.” The neighborhood is a congregation of cheap, prefab homes and trailers jumbled together with only the thinnest of spaces between them. The houses stand (barely) on two hillsides with the street running…

  • an uncomfortable visit

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    …shocked at how seedy the old neighborhood looks, I feel a pang of survivor’s guilt over my own relatively comfortable life now. Through the open door of the apartment, I can see that our old neighbors are sitting down to dinner. I’m stunned for a moment to find that the little boy my son used…

  • cages

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    …passing through one of the seedier parts of town, I stop off to visit with an old friend from college. I’m surprised to find him here, in such strained circumstances. We sit out on his little patch of front yard and chat for a bit, but it quickly grows tiresome. He’s consumed by self-involved bitterness…

  • statues

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    …and we’re walking together, my son and my youngest daughter, on the grounds of the local university. It is late afternoon, the sun just beginning to set behind the hills. I stop for a moment to inspect a statue. My son continues on, leading his sister by the hand up the pathway. After a few…

  • blue eyes

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    [This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated September 28th, 1998] Dream of a child, born late and fully formed — with an unmistakeable look of recognition in her clear blue eyes. Another dream of a bazaar in Night City — somewhere in The Midlands, at least — and a…

  • home invasion

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    [This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated January 6th, 1997] I stand in the front window and watch as the car makes its second pass, making myself as visible as possible to the men inside . . . letting them know that there are people home and they’ll have…

  • wedding errand

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    Walking through a parking lot towards a line of children. Accosted, my money taken. Finally convincing them to let me go — “Please, I’m getting married today.” Amazingly — I’m released. But the ceremony has started and I’m late. Putting on a tuxedo in the great underground empire while searching for a washcloth. Sent on…

  • the three old men

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    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.