There’s been very little writing over the last week. Storytellers who write stories about not telling stories are —clearly— not going to be nominated for, let alone win, prestigious awards. The only thing I’ve ever won—to date—is a 60-inch RCA projection television valued at over twelve hundred dollars. It was on a one-dollar raffle ticket,…
Author: Tim Cotton
Egg Salad and Bing Crosby
Circuitously navigating the interior portions of the jagged edge has found me rethinking my Sirius/XM presets. For some reason, one of the seasonally available Christmas music channels has taken up space where something else had previously been. I don’t remember what had been there, but I know it wasn’t yule-related. I’m not gonna lie, during…
Flannel and Gas Are Not Exclusive To Bean Suppers
Malady-bound, I was stuck inside the house for the day. Other than regularly scheduled appearances on the back lawn for an audience of one black dog, I looked for inside chores that I’ve ignored. The laundry was easy. I recovered some flannel shirts that I left in the dryer during my last session. Even the…
Meandering through the Melancholy
Autumn is time for melancholy thoughts. It’s clear to me on days with cold breezes and low-slung steel-tinted clouds. I can sense winter’s henchmen clearing the path for what comes next. All days cannot be bright and cheery. You need time to steep in the tea of gray with no cream or sugar to mask…
My Poker Face
My poker face must need a quick refresh; inner frustration shows when it shouldn’t. There was a time—not so long ago—that most folks couldn’t tell what I was thinking. Predictably, it was at a convenience store, and I was in a rush to get going. One of the reasons I switched to drinking only black…
A Song From Another Time
The song came on in just the nick of time. And I’m not saying it saved the day, but it was a welcome respite from the internalized self-doubt that overwhelms all of us from time to time. No, I don’t want a diagnosis, pity, or a phone call. There is no need to send me…
Julius, The Passive Solar Cat
The conversation interrupted the latest from Durand Jones & The Indications. I didn’t say it out loud, but I silently hoped that the verbal volley would be worth turning down the volume knob jutting from the dash of the Ford. I like a conversation, but sometimes I like music better. I only get so many…
Ernie Is My Co-Pilot
I like to think of myself as an individual who notices the little details that make up the bigger picture. I don’t claim to have been the best detective, but, in hindsight, I was pretty good. I wasn’t a collector of physical evidence. I was more of a mouthpiece. A conversationalist. An interviewer. I did…
Autumn, You Surprised Me
Fall will be our focus for the foreseeable future. With so much to do, the season sneaks up on us disguised as a summer afternoon that lulls us into believing that cool nights and warm days could last forever. Gangs of tomatoes cling to the vines as if they paid a bit extra to be…
September
I grabbed the two empty water jugs and trudged through the path lined by beech, hemlock, and pine. The grass between the tree roots and rocks swished against my boots and jeans, and I stopped whistling Earth Wind and Fire’s “September” for a few moments. After being absent for most of the summer, the red…