The Morning After

The Morning After

She took a long, slow drag off one of her favorite cigarettes as he caressed her hand, both of them lost forever in the moment now fading into their past. They’d waited for this day as if it had been 100 years. Made the arrangements. Devised excuses for skipping out on work. They’d picked a location far from their hometown, where nobody would recognize them in the band of darkness that some would say straddles a thin line, but to them it would be plenty wide to satisfy their curiosity. She had wondered whether she’d feel bliss—or regret—after the rendezvous. And now she knew. It was over. She was already thinking about the next one. It was, as they say, nothing short of spectacular. Continue reading “The Morning After”

Declawed

Declawed

Daisy used to climb the high back chair in my office to lay across the top, that is, until the veterinarian declawed her. And that brings up another interesting point. Daisy was neutered that same day, which is why Daisy, you see, isn’t a she. She’s a he. And he’s a cat.

Chester. Tucker. Tyrone. Or stick with Daisy. These are a few names, among others, our family can’t decide on since my oldest son’s girlfriend enlightened us of Daisy’s genital make-up, though I’d known for a while something looked odd. And I apologize. That might sound sexist.

But as best as I can tell, Daisy doesn’t care about sexism. Continue reading “Declawed”

Green Leaf Bug

Green Leaf Bug

I was sipping coffee outside when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a leaf stuck between the deck slats, waving with the morning breeze. It was colored an extraordinarily rich green, a contrast from the spectrum of autumn browns, yellows, and oranges. A closer look revealed a True Katydid, a.k.a., a green leaf bug.

I figured it was dead. Temperatures had dropped into the 40’s that night. With my slippered feet I tapped it onto its side. It’s legs pedaled slowly into empty air.

I picked it up. It’s tiny eyes stared at me with helpless abandon. Continue reading “Green Leaf Bug”

Perspective from a Tree

Perspective from a Tree

Edging outward on a sturdy limb I lost my balance right away but caught myself. I looked down at the ground some 15 feet below, my own limbs quivering after the espresso shot of adrenaline. What am I doing up here, I thought.

As a child I would climb trees over 50 feet tall, my 65-pound body clinging to the spindliest top branch on the windiest of days short of a thunderstorm, though my favorite time of day to climb was at dusk. Continue reading “Perspective from a Tree”

Bird Watching

Bird Watching

There is a bird watching me through the living room window. Or is it watching the television? Its head turns sharply toward me again, then back to the television. For all I know it’s following an outside reflection, but its tiny-eyed glances are rather precise between this large-headed Homo sapiens and the flashing picture machine set opposite the couch.

My wife enters the room and confirms this is the same bird that’s been coming and going every few days, sometimes every day, motioning through the same routine. And I’m curious. Continue reading “Bird Watching”