Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Tag: Yeah Write
Road Trip
If we went across the country, we could put the dogs in the truck and they could look at cars passing by and be themselves in the beautiful wind, leap out for deserts and mountains, and chase what they can’t ever catch.
Cryptic
It was the third time this week, a half sheet of yellow paper stuck under the driver’s side windshield wiper, the writing neat to start but wild and flared at the end, the message the same each day, look for it inside.
It’s Still Alright
“What’s that up there?” “That’s the moon, Janey. Remember the moon?” The moon. That’s the moon. What’s that up there?” “The moon, Janey. It’s the moon. Remember the moon when we were young?” “The moon. Moon. Moon.” “That’s right, Janey. The moon.”
Matched
By accident Unintentionally Stepping in with thin-soled shoes Pretending to be a braver person Than I was or had ever been Pretending to be Someone who adopts strangers From foreign countries Apologizing right away For speaking another language Neither of us understood
Sibling Secrets
“It’s not fair that I have to pay after taking care of him all those years.” “Life’s not fair. Isn’t that what he used to say?” “He was looking at you when he said it.” “Pay the people or they’ll tell everyone.”
Q and A with a Seventies Single Mom
Q: So I’m fascinated by this topic. Just thinking about what it must have been like to have been a single mom in the seventies. Forty years ago. Another world. A: Yeah. It was a bitch being left alone on the prairie in my… Continue Reading “Q and A with a Seventies Single Mom”
Artifact
The wagon was so small, my mother assembled it on the kitchen table, holding the bolts in her mouth like stubby cigarettes, she built it to last but it’s gone, buried in the attic with the torn stuffed bear he called Billy.
Watch the Slow
No, I always go slow down my driveway, then I look to make sure no cars are coming and then back my car into the street unless I see a little boy looking at me, his face framed by my rear window.
Feeling Fine at Cocktail Time
Cake and Cheetos and triumph at my table, little bites and big ones, my mink out of storage wrapped around twice, maybe the white gloves folded for so long in the drawer, I leave the elegant crumbs strewn for others to sweep.
Snow Door | wisconsinacademy.org
Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “The Parish Hall,” on WUWM Lake Effect
“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
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