Shame did not come when fat Tony pressed the greasy envelope into my lap beneath the pub table. Fat Tony smiled, nodded and got up to go, winked as he left. Brisbee thumped my shoulder then. “Popped your cherry, you have. Let’s have another round.” Bris motioned for the whiskey. I suppose I drank, caught […]

Überhaus Diary: Sushi Date

From May 1999. Dating in a nutshell. sushi date I watch  Masa slice the fish draw his knife quick along the gleaming belly it seems to move itself as I float forever on your voice the soft curve of your lips cradling words full of recent events devoid of meaning God you are beautiful your eyes, way across the table […]

Tuesday, September 11th

It was Jill’s idea. She lives downstairs in our building, a city kid like me. She said she was a real Harriet the Spy.  I never read it,  so I’ll take her word. I like books about war. Last night there was a building party and all the kids went to Mrs. Massey’s on the fifth floor. Jill and I […]


Friday Fictoneers for this week is a tough one. I stood staring at the picture of the Keck Observatory for a long time. The colonel’s blotchy face turned  salt white as he watched the screen. “Jesus,” he whispered. “Are you sure this is real?” “Absolutely certain, Colonel. We wouldn’t have enacted the protocol if we weren’t. Both of […]

This Isn’t Just Turbulence

Sunday Photo Fiction. “This isn’t just turbulence.” As she said this, the plane shuddered as though struck, jolted sharply upward. Her Bloody Mary shot from its plastic cup and drenched my shirt and lap. She closed her eyes and began to scream. The plane shook with sudden violence, then settled into a rattling vibration as […]

Überhaus Diary: Tsuru no Sugomori

One night I walked from my apartment up to Portland’s tiny Japan Town and witnessed two old men sitting in a vast room playing go, a young man watching from the doorway. I went home and wrote this piece. It is typical of the sort of things I was writing at the time, fragments of […]

My Kind of Alcoholic : Friday Fictioneers

A dramatic image from Rochelle this morning begets a less dramatic story.   “Ask you another question?” “As long as you’re buying.” He motioned for two more shots. They came and we toasted. “What’s the deal when you guys leave the fire truck in the street? No sirens, just the lights rolling.” I sipped my beer. “Well, lots […]

Tarn Said

Sunday Photo Fiction this week made me think of Miller’s Crossing, but since I already wrote something very like that I thought I’d take this in another direction. Sort of like if characters from a Faulkner story got pulled into a 1970s dirt bike slasher movie. Tarn said they had it coming, racing around like […]

Überhaus Diary: The Knife

November 23rd, 1997 The neighborhood was located in a little triangle formed by the intersection of two major highways. For once, the highway designers had gotten it right, placing the on and off-ramps in such a way that they were both invisible and practically inaudible to the homes of the neighborhood. My friends Holly and […]

You Can’t Go Back

  Only the pain was real. His daddy standing over him wasn’t, dead years gone, dead of some fool accident  that made this one look minor. Yeah, minor. He laughed, more of the pain arriving along with the laugh. He wondered again why he didn’t bleed out. There was blood enough, clinging cold on what was left […]