“You want a piece of me, chair?”

said my five-year old tonight, dressed in full Batman togs, before delivering 360 degrees of pain to the sides, the back, the seat of our oversized wooden rocking chair. “Hunh? Chairie?” he cooed. “You want a piece of me, Chairie?” And somehow that familiar name only made the beating more savage.

It’s your prerogative

I’m surprised you’d say that. I mean, you’ve read the articles, right? I sent you the articles, so you must have read them. Which means you know all about my generation and the way we transformed pipe-cleaner-beading from a sort of kid’s sort of crafty project into a serious art form and then, finally, a … Read more

Pacing

Jake has lived with these dogs for four years now. They pace around his cage on dry paws. He rotates as they pace, tracking their progress but never catching their eyes. He learned this truth in the first few weeks: catch the eye of a hungry dog and it will bark. And not a yippie … Read more

“Justice Legal”

This weekend my 5-year old asked: “wouldn’t it be funny if ‘Justice League’ was ‘Justice Legal’”? Like it was some hit ABC show, where big-city super heroes practice the law wearing costumes. Never using their super powers just, you know arguing the case fighting over turf falling in love in spandex. Flash is bucking to … Read more

Dark Blue

The car was a used Chrysler LeBaron convertible parked just around the corner. Dark blue and dented, it had lived a bumpy life. They got in and Cal started the engine. And when he shifted, the car rumbled and fought back, and to Greg, it felt like Cal was shifting something inside Greg’s ass cheeks.