Grownups Are Lucky

Sometimes it is difficult to avoid creative differences when making art with your preferred medical professional.

Some children are brats and their parents are brats too. Brat was also the name of a short lived automobile, but that is a fact entirely unrelated to this story.

Because we are stuck in a linear understanding of our experience, we insist, in the moment, that Betamax is the future of home video.

Is anything really true anymore? Can extraterrestrials save us? Is dad really dad?

In the peak of mosquito season we are often susceptible to unorthodox, and frankly risky, means of itch reduction. Be careful out there, listeners!

It’s important to remember, but easy to forget, that we don’t all feel the same way about shopping.

(This story first appeared in issue 3.1 of The Maine Review. )

What if our snack food diets merged with our erratic weather systems all while the corporatocracy finally admitted they didn’t give a damn about the twins’ medical bills?

Any story set at the DMV is going to involve an uncomfortable and frustrating waiting period.

The airport waiting area is a an ecosystem where manufactured breezes ruffle our comatose feathers.

You know we know it’s bad, and we know more or less why it’s bad, but only because we can’t imagine how bad it really is, though we all know it’s really bad, but not in ways we can explain, because it’s too bad to untangle. Oh, the headache of it all.