Late autumn, a day of mist and rain keeping me indoors. I think of Bashō at the outset of his final journey: taking up the walking stick, crossing the threshold. All day long I have sat by the window watching rain, reading The Narrow Road, strumming the guitar. Outside, dead leaves have piled up, vines have lost their bloom. In a nearby field, cranes pick through harvest remains without concern for the downpour…
Browsing Category Nonfiction
Definitions of a Marriage by Judy T. Oldfield
Mon Chou – (Fr.) ca. 1997 1. A phrase of French origin that literally translates as “my cabbage.” 2. A French term of endearment. 3. A phrase I learned in French class freshman year of high school and began calling you, which you did not like (see definition 1)…
Red Pop and Ritalin
1. I want to say it was Scott who—back in the seventh grade—stole his mom’s Valium, his father’s coke, his older brother’s weed, and his younger brother’s Ritalin. I want to say it was Scott…
Watching–The Fall
You slide the knife’s edge across the top of the cup, making sure there is not one speck of flour more nor less than called for in the recipe. Now you wipe the counter, clearing…