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Marie was sure he never said a word about a motorcycle. He said, “I meet you at Piazza Bologna metro. We eat dinner, we drink a cup of coffee, we see what happens.”
Then her laptop battery died. She stuffed the computer back in her bag and left the Internet café. She walked the four blocks to her hotel wondering if she would be able to figure out how to make a telephone call. From the room, she dialed “0” for the reception desk.
“Can you help me make a local phone call, please?”
The voice on the other end …more
The other day, one of my young friends asked in a solemn tone, “Aren’t you bored after all these years?”
I changed the subject. I told her about a curious experience I’d had at the park.
“Last Thursday, I discovered a new shade of purple. I was walking past the driveway of the arboretum, and I noticed a flowerbed that had been freshly planted. The tiny clusters of blossoms were a purple that I’m sure I’ve never seen before in all my many years.” …more
The plan was to focus on his own dreams.
The plan was to learn to be happy alone.
The plan was to keep things light.
The plan was to have some fun with his friends.
The plan was not to let down his guard.
The plan was not to get sidetracked by a smile.
The plan was not to be the first to say “I love you.”
The plan was not to replace all his answers with fresh questions.
The plan was not foolproof.
Spring out of bed at the first squawk of the alarm.
Stumble to the shower.
Lean under the strong stream of hot water, the last good shower for a while, but only for the 10 minutes you have allotted.
Hurry to dress in the clothes you laid out last night.
Load up the car.
Pause in the doorway to review the checklist once more: passport, wallet, spare contact lenses.
Drive to the airport, exceeding the speed limit …more
“I would like to tell you about the Redeeming Knowledge,” began the man on the doorstep without so much as a word of introduction. “Maybe I come in and share with you for a moment?”
I had seen my mother turn away Jehovah’s Witnesses, Girl Scouts, and Fuller Brush men with a curt “No thank you,” so I was astonished when she stepped back from the open door to make way for the man. “Won’t you come in?” she asked.
The man wiped the soles of his patent-leather shoes on the doormat, …more
Wednesday, January 30: J. spent his bonus on a 67-inch flat-panel TV. He’s very excited about the Super Bowl.
Thursday, January 31: J. left work early to come meet the satellite-TV guy. If they stuck the dish up on the roof, why is my kitchen such a mess?
Friday, February 1: We stayed in tonight and watched DVDs on the new TV. What an amazing picture! After the first movie, I had a headache. We moved the bookcase over next to the patio door and pushed the leather loveseat back against the wall to get more distance from the TV. The front left leg is loose.
Saturday, February 2: We usually go for coffee at Mister Beans on Saturday morning, …more
For several years, I’ve tormented many of my friends, confidants, and co-conspirators with long reveries about how writing is a lot like walking. Each is a habit, an exercise that is practice and performance at the same time, a Zen meditation, an everyday struggle, and a source of daily joy in tiny doses.
Today’s writing assignment is on the theme of “halfway,” which brings to mind the pattern of landmarks that tell me how far I’ve come and how far I have to go in my daily Memorial Park regimen. So I thought I’d take a break from writing about thinking and thinking about writing to take my beloved readers on a walk at the park (from the indoor comfort of my writing chair, to whatever place you like to read). …more
My brother calls me a collaborator, a traitor—and worse. I ask him what he would do if he were the one responsible for our mother’s care. But he’s not responsible. What good are his principles when she is near starving and I don’t have the money to buy the medicine that might quiet her pain?
I take responsibility for the choices I have made. I accept the rations that they give me, although it is not enough for three of us. My brother lectures me on the subject of sacrifice. When he comes to visit us on a moonless night, he invokes the name of our father. I don’t need to be reminded of what was taken from both of us. I don’t want to hear …more
- You never told me that there was a time when you loved him, blemishes and all.
- You never told me that I was one of the first, and the one you would always remember.
- You never told me that it hurt you to think he might have other children.
- You never told me that you were hoping this time he wouldn’t come back.
- You never told me that I was any good at it, even though you told her I was.
- You never told me that rescue work was more discouraging than it was fulfilling.
- You never told me …more
“It’s like the gay Super Bowl,” Gary said. He set the parking brake and checked his hair in the rear-view mirror.
“How is it like that?” I asked.
“All the men are gathered around yelling at the television set, and most of the women are hanging out in the kitchen,” he said. “Oscar Night is a very, very big deal for our people.”
I leaned in to grab the grocery bag from behind the passenger seat. I had to jump back to avoid the convertible top …more
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