Monday, October 17, 2011
Dreamers on the Rise
“You’re late and you’re smiling.” David looked at the register receipts on the counter, scanning the figures from business we did last night. “Sara was smiling when she came in too.”
“What was Sara doing here?”
“She dropped Amber off. Remember? She’s working this morning?”
“Where’s she at?” I looked around the store and didn’t see her anywhere.
“She’s in the back, making you coffee. Imagine. She called me a stupid caboon this morning. Clues?”
“Slave.” I wiped some dust off the counter with my finger. “Imagine.” I smiled at David and went to hunt down Amber. I pushed aside the portiere to the back room and found her spooning coffee into a filter.
from the forthcoming novel. . .Dreamers on the Rise
Dreamers on the Rise
“Not bad for a pathetic old man,” she said.
“I sacked up good, didn’t I?”
“That you did.” She ran her fingers over my chest and looked up at me, yawning. “Sometimes, you are such a TDS .”
“The Amber translation please.”
“Terminal Dumb Shit.” She was asleep in two minutes.
Yes, sometimes, I surely was that.
I laid awake a long time thinking. Wondering how it had come to this.
Photography
After sitting through a short presentation yesterday by Andy Katz and then sitting through a short class on RAW photography given by Varina Patel I knew right then I was in over my head and need to take some photography classes. . .next up on the to-do list. . .then salivating a bit over this: Sony a77. . .it's off this morning at sunrise to Cleveland Metroparks for a bit of fall color shooting. . .a bit of the above video before I head out. . .then back to the grind. . .
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Dreamers on the Rise
“I like the tennis skirt,” David said, grinning, staring down at Amber’s thighs.
“Pervert!” Amber whacked his shoulder. “I’m sixteen and you’re what? Thirty-eight or some fossilized number? Gross! You’re worse than a barrel full of smashed assholes.”
“Pervert!” I said, chiming in. “And actually, I think the boy is thirty-nine.”
“What, so you don’t look at her legs?” he asked, sneering at me.
“It’s Amber!” My mental goalie searched for something clever to say that wouldn’t incriminate me.
“What, so you don’t look?” she asked. They both stared at me.
“Of course.” I playfully chucked the bill of her hat.
“Well, that’s okay. You’re allowed. Just not David.” She took off her cap, slammed it over the top of his head in disgust, and fixed it back atop her head. “Ben’s practically my father.”
“Oh. Yes. That makes it so much better,” David said.
. . .from the forthcoming novel, Dreamers on the Rise
Saturday, October 15, 2011
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