"Those" moments..., Author's Picks


Part 1 of 2

I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.

It haunts me down to this day. It may haunt me forever. An obdurate shadow at the back of my mind. A castaway shackled in a closed-off room in my heart.

I remember coaxing her once lustrous hair, now a dry and damaged mop, to one side so I could kiss her warm forehead. It used to be warmer. I tell her to be strong.

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

There’s no answer. There are no sounds other than the faint beeps of a heart monitor and her tired and troubled breathing. I pause to take her in. Vacant washed-out globes had replaced the eyes that once had been full of life, love, and wanderlust. Shallow breaths from her chapped lips. Yellow and pale taking over the vibrant pink in her skin. Her hands twitching from unknowable pain. For a second it courses through me as well. Strings are pulled inside me. I wince. I reach for her hand and envelop it with both of mine. She must have used all the strength she had left when she lightly held on to my hands. It takes all of my own strength to keep from crying.

A voice inside says I can’t leave. Continue reading

General Blah Blah

Stage 1

This can’t be happening. This is surely just a nightmare. I will be waking up any second now to the sound of a familiar alarm.
I was holding it a moment ago. It’s polished aluminum weighing solid in my palm. Maybe it’s in my bag. Maybe I didn’t look hard enough. Maybe this is all just one big joke and someone I know has it safe with them. Hah! Joke’s on me. Okay, come out with it! I’ve pushed my tear glands to their limit.
It’s not lost. It’s just here…somewhere…in one of those dirty nooks or lost crannies. Behind the bed; under the sheets; or inside the closet.

Stage 2

Continue reading

If Only

"Those" moments..., Author's Picks, Thoughts

Lady of the Ring



I shift my eyes from the floor to my right hand. There I see a trace of what once was; a reminder of something that was on the proximal phalanx of my middle finger. It’s barely there. Funny thing about how sunlight works on unexposed skin, or exposed skin rather. The unexposed skin stays a shade lighter than the exposed. It’s a band of lighter skin where another band, of the stainless steel variety, was once placed.

The line of lighter skin takes me back to a time I wish was still here or will be again, soon; when that steel band was still on my third finger enduring the rigors of ubiquitous activities like a proper gentleman’s ring should.

It’s in safekeeping, the ring I mean; I mean to have it back. It brings more than just ten grams of dense stainless steel and style power. It carries with it hope, love, memories, and second chances – an assurance; a promise; a wish. Sweet nostalgia. Positive prospects.

Now, my ring-less finger reminds me only of pain and loss – the depth of which I cannot ascribe to paper or text…maybe song, but not quite.  I’d have to borrow from a lyric of a popular broadway song:

There’s a grief that can’t be spoken

There’s a pain that goes on and on Continue reading