A Failed Coup

Sherlock clicked up to my knee and put his head near my hand. He looked at me with big eyes, begging for a scratch. I ran my fingernails behind his eyes. “You’re a good boy,” I said.

Harry called to Sherlock as he always does when I’m giving him attention. “Here boy, come, Sherlock.” Sherlock ignored him. A failed coup.

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Beautiful

The morning air after a rain is still a beautiful thing. The way the neighbor waves over the fence and says, “Beautiful day!” is full of cheer. The little bounce in the step from that morning cuppa a beautiful way to start a day. Ignoring the news is going to be the best part of this beautiful day.

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Medical Advice

He tossed medical advice about like snake oil, splashing everyone with his venom. He knew nothing, had no education, no training. Yet women – and a few men – hung on his every word, bought his every promise, believed his every statement.

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The Fern

fern

I carried a camp chair off into the trees with me every morning. I like to stop on the hill and sit next to a big fern. I loved that fern for some reason. The view from the hill was soothing. Sometimes other walkers would pass me by, say hello, and keep going. It was my spot.

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New and Improved

After the convention with so many inspiring people around me, I felt like a new and improved me. Someone who would be different – better. I wanted to be better, more like those successful people who offered so much advice. It sounded so easy. A few minutes a day. But when I got home . . .

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What if

What if all the men of color who somehow managed to escape the criminal justice system to reach adulthood got together? What if they paraded before a television camera to say their name and what they do? Everyone from the most famous like Barack Obama and Neil deGrasse Tyson to the local high school teachers and the doctors and the business owners and the government workers? What if we made all the police departments in America watch that?

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Guarantee

There are no guarantees in life. Things can change in a moment and the future looks completely different after that moment passes. When I met her I was just passing through town. I was minding my own business, filling my gas tank, buying a soda and a bag of peanuts, and she walked up to me.

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The Flood

Yeah, I was living here in the flood of ’71. I lived in a house with a basement then. The whole basement, clear up to the ceiling, filled with muddy water. It was awful. We hauled buckets of mud out of there. Then we had to tear out all the walls because of the mold. It was awful. You know, you can’t ever get that smell out. It was awful.

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Darling

How did they make the air in the dog pound smell so fresh? Her mind was on Fabreze as she wandered between the cages, eyeing eager dogs. Too big and hairy. Too small and yippy. “This one’s darling,” she said. She knelt before a mid-sized dog – mostly brown with one floppy ear. The dog looked back at her with interest and sniffed at her finger tips. “Could we take her out?”

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