Category: Creative Non-fiction

Occupy for Bread and Roses

It was the first time my ex had kicked me out of the house, and I don’t remember for what anymore.  Something stupid and petty, I’m sure.  This time would be just the first of several times, and it was always a power move on his part.  His way of exerting his control over me: I disagreed about something we heard said on the radio?  Bam!—on the streets in the middle of the night (if it weren’t for my friends who always took me in when this shit went down.)

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Paradise Memorium

“Paradise will never burn,” they swore.

The long-time locals gathered on the ridge to stare at the 23 thousand acres of flame and blackness across the canyon.  “Trust me,” they said.  Pontificating with their cigarettes and pointing with their beers at the perpetual sunset, writhing and leaping against the night sky. 

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The Good, the Bad, and the Jackass

            John Wayne taught me how to fight. 

            My father taught me, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”  He shrugged his freckly white shoulders. 

            “No,” I argued.  “They shouldn’t say mean things to me.”

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