Category: Bez

  • A Mysterious Key

    There is a key on the kitchen counter this morning, where none was when I got into bed last night. I ask Bez about it. “I have no idea where it came from,” she says. “I thought you put it there.” I turn to the Kitchen God. “Did you put this here?” Of course he…

  • Apricots and Snow

    Somewhere tonight it is snowing. Bez’s hair smells of apricots. Her belly is warm under my palm. She breathes softly but deeply as  she sleeps There is safety in numbers. Somewhere tonight it is snowing. But not here.

  • The Right Word

    I have three thousand, six-hundred and thirty-two ideas for what to write about, and currently none of them are stirring me from my comfortable bed of lethargy. Some of these are things that relate to me: the boy with the wild hair named Christian who I once thought I would marry; being snowed-in with Laura…

  • Awkward

    In fifteen minutes, I will be in bed. This day has been one of those which must just be gotten through. I’ve been walking uphill ever since I got up this morning, and nothing has gotten me out of this state of mind which I find myself. Men can be so irritating. I hate feeling…

  • Synchronicity

    What I want to write about is mundane, completely and utterly typical. I want to tell how I was out this evening and saw the Cheese Man outside a restaurant, in the shadows between the streetlights, doing with a woman the very same thing he had been doing with me the other night, and how…

  • The Smaller View

    I am only interested tonight in things in the macro, in the close-up. I am closed to the bigger picture, to interconnectedness. All that I want is the individual, the broken piece, the tiny flaw. There is a chip in the mirror in my bedroom, a shallow pool of black from which the silver has…

  • Perhaps

    Perhaps I will write about it or perhaps I won’t. I should be asleep right now, but I’m not. Usually when there’s someone sleeping in my bed, I can fall right off to sleep with a speed that is amazing to my usually alone-sleeping self, but not tonight. Bez sleeps beside me, on her back,…

  • Misfires

    One day, Bez decides that she is going to teach me how to shoot. This is of course a futile experiment, as I am steadfastly opposed to the idea of guns, and so I refuse to even hold the pistol, let alone shoot it. Nothing good has ever come from a gun, I believe, and…