Sometimes it’s the only child syndrome that strikes me, renders me helpless. I can’t explain it to friends that were raised with siblings, who were probably never left home alone to fend and take care of themselves. The feeling hits me at the oddest of times – sometimes when I’m in the middle of a room full of people that I love. It has reduced me to tears before, without any explanation. Read more
My father is a senior in high school, trying his first joint. He seems at ease, faking his way through his inexperience, playing it cool like he always does. When the other kids jab at him and joke, he gives his relaxed smile, those straight teeth. He is not tall or short, smart or dumb, boring or charismatic. Sadness is really his only defining trait. And sadness is very easy to hide behind straight teeth, at least for a while. But if you find a better concealment, you’re set. Read more
As I stand, waiting, underneath a rare burst of wintertime sunshine, a homeless man, draped in an enormous coat, clutching a beer can inconspicuously cloaked in a wrinkled paper bag, hovers beneath the bus shelter beside me.
Nothing out of the ordinary in this city. Read more
I remember she rode the bus to and from school with me my freshman year of high school. Freshman year. High School. That time in most of our lives when our main priority is to belong, when the survival-of-the-trendiest mentality pushes against anyone who swims upstream whether they do so by chance or by choice. And even though in her case it was by chance–genes, biology–she was so…different. Read more
The first thing is that I couldn’t even think about writing this until I’d lost 50 pounds. Because you feel that everyone’s judging you, for being lazy, eating too much, not taking care of yourself, not trying hard enough. You feel your voice doesn’t count. You feel you can’t talk about what it’s like to be fat until you’ve proven yourself, shown that you’re taking steps not to be fat anymore. Read more
She had long black hair with blond streaks I once spent three hours trying to coax out of her nearly impossible mane as we sang cheesy 80s music on an abnormally hot spring day.
She had dark brown, almost black eyes; they smiled and shone warmly on her good days, yet hid the pain and suffering she felt everyday. Read more
In the fourth grade, at the tender age of nine years old, I was certain that I had a horrible life. I was the only boy of five children and I had a step-mother whom I thought of as the epitome of wicked. It wasn’t that she made me do all sorts of random and ridiculous chores (she did, but that’s part of childhood, right?), but I felt that she treated me and my little sister differently than her own children. She was incredibly harsh and unfair with us while we were growing up and was prone to frequent outbursts of yelling. I honestly hated and feared her for a large portion of my childhood. Eventually, we would grow and mature in our relationship, but it would be several years before that happened. Read more
Standing in the shower, I long to blame my zombie-like-state on the early morning hours. I let the steam and water pour over me…hoping, praying, that somehow it just might wash away the pain. I lean against the dewy tile, resting my heavy head. Thoughts of the past week’s dizzying events swirl through my memory, much like the steam as it engulfs my broken (if only for a moment) spirit. Read more
I’m surrounded with a sense of Déjà vu. American Gladiators are on every Monday night, Knight Ridder premiers next week and Rambo will soon be in the theaters. Pop culture is a cyclical phenomena that must follow a rotation of I love the 80’s on VH-1. In the short term, I need to know if mullets or rat tails are coming back into style soon, because I desperately need a hair cut and I’m reluctant to schedule an appointment. Read more
First he sat across from me in editing class. All I remember is that yellow coat and thinking how it must take balls for someone so pale with such white-blonde hair to wear such a bright color.
Three years later and 148 miles away, I was sitting across from him again. This time it was in a satellite office in a middle-of-nowhere business park. We were together for the better part of each workday for nearly two years, often alone, with long stretches of downtime between frenzied deadlines.
Nothing nourishes a bond like boredom. Read more
Great story. You did a good job with the dialogue here.February 1, 9:00 am by Anastacia Campbell
