I'm Only Six Four, Tops

Katie's brother pounds on the kitchen window, and we get up to let the two of them in from the cold night air.

Katie comes in carrying a paper bag upon which she's cradling a fairly sizable amount of broken glass. Turns out she and her brother took the car escape tool (including a seat belt slasher, pocket knife, and glass breaker) her brother gave her and tested out the glass breaking tool on the wine bottle we recently cashed.

"I broke the glass," her brother says, "because I knew if she got hurt you'd blame me, and I don't need seven foot husband pissed off at me."

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One year ago today: We Know Our Own

Two years ago today: Tempus Fugit

Three years ago today: Maybe I'M the Problem

Nine years ago today: 12-30-07 - She'll be coming round the mountain

Don't Look Away

The hawk sits on his branch, high up in the tree in the backyard, and I sit on the porch, both of us out there long after everyone else has gone inside. His chest feathers ruffle in the breeze, and he turns so his back is into it and hunches over a little more.

The breeze muscles the leaves around, threatening to turn into a full-blown wind, and the door to the porch swings open by its invisible hand.

When I turn back from the door, the hawk is gone.
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One year ago today: That's On Me
Two years ago today: Who Knows How She Knows
Three years ago today: Comments on the Bukowski Documentary
Nine years ago today: 12-29-07 - We Gotta Get Outta This Place

Shower Talk

"And then the muscle in my leg right here," I point to Katie's leg right above the knee where the river of shower water pouring down the delta of her thigh concentrates to a thin stream that trickles down her calf, "started twitching like this." I pulse out a tattoo of quick beats with my fingertips on her leg.

"The beacon I had implanted in you finally turned on," she says solemnly, turning away to rinse off the soap.

"Well, could you tell 'em to chill, please?"
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One year ago today: Back to the Grind
Two years ago today: Innocent in Dreams
Nine years ago today: 12-28-07 hell is other people (booking your air travel)

Turbulence

The plane tosses and bucks, skidding down and climbing up towering mountains of cloud. It seems impossible that we should remain so calm in the midst of such commotion, when the terror of the sky is upon us, but somehow no one stirs.

A bell rings, and in the darkness above every seat a hundred little identical sigils illuminate, a warning and ward from the captain to keep us locked down safe in our seats.

Everyone dreams on, complacent, but we are miles from the earth, and only a few slender, trembling feet from the void.
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One year ago today: An Ill(-ish) Wind, Part 2
Two years ago today: I Am Known
Three years ago today: Home
Nine years ago today: 12-27-07 Mexican or Mexican't?

Lazy

Television on in the background, another retelling of the redemption of Saturn, while I make us tea. I pause at the bay window and look out into the disheveled backyard. A gray sky glowers overhead, but I know it isn't below 60 outside.

I press my forehead to the cool glass, which is about as close as I get to going outdoors, or even leaving a radius of about thirty feet beyond the couch, all day.
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One year ago today: If Someone Tells You They're Crazy, Believe Them
Two years ago today: Teach Me To Just Shove Things In My Face
Three years ago today: What Else Are You Gonna Do In Sun City?
Nine years ago today: 12-26-07 absolution

No Sidewalks

While we wait for her brother to arrive for Christmas, Katie and I walk through her parents' neighborhood, admiring the houses and counting the number of empty tree swings and abandoned trampolines.

"Not seeing anybody on the streets is weird," says Katie. "I mean, I know there are people in the houses, celebrating Christmas, but from the outside you can't tell there's anybody around at all."

I listen to the quiet and the high whine of my circulation; a hawk flies overhead in a cloudless blue sky, and Katie raises her hand, like she's calling it down so we can have someone else to talk to.
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One year ago today: The Holidays Bring Up Feelings
Two years ago today: Smart Dog
Nine years ago today: 12-25-07 melancholy christmas

Flying Home

Open throats of jet engines swallow huge volumes of air to furiously spin and shove us across the sky. Unseen vortices tumble in our wake twisting the atmosphere, changing the world's weather.

Below, the city glitters as we descend.

Streets like constellations beneath a darkened sky, stars of architecture and motion all grow and lift and resolve into somewhere we can land, a tiny space in an enormous world, a place on earth for us to stand.
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One year ago today: What, 'Cause She's Black?
Two years ago today: An Antidote for Smells and Bells
Three years ago today: A Gnostic Christmas