hic vigilans somniat
We’re living in an apartment complex, a bit run down and seedy. But this is all we can afford. In the apartment across the way, a young couple live with their two small children. The woman is slight, dark haired and sickly. Her husband is darker, brows constantly knotted with rage. His mentally-challenged brother lives with them. It is a sad… Continue reading the apartment across the way
It’s night and we’re driving, my friend David and me. I’ve known him a long time. Since we were in sixth grade, I think. We’ve stayed in touch that whole time, mostly. Well, we fall out of touch and then back into touch. We haven’t seen each other in years — almost twenty, I think . . . though I’m not… Continue reading david and mickey
Changing the sheet on my daughter’s crib tonight, strange flashes of faces in her room — white and black, bold stripes and contrast, large teeth and bulging eyes framed by wild hair . . . almost like the stark, menacing glee of Japanese oni masks. These flashes, somewhere between a mental image and a visualization — not quite registered by the… Continue reading masks and shadows
Pushing through the soft fuzz of the baby monitor, my daughter’s cries jolts me awake: “Daddy, daddy, daddy...” I’m up and across the hall before I have a chance to clear the mist from my head. Standing over her crib, I pat her back and tell her it’s okay. Once she settles down I head back to bed. I make the… Continue reading early morning
...for some unknown reason, our family has been relocated to what can only be charitably described as “the bad part of of town.” The neighborhood is a congregation of cheap, prefab homes and trailers jumbled together with only the thinnest of spaces between them. The houses stand (barely) on two hillsides with the street running between them. Each house is a… Continue reading just another white trash weekend
[This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated September 28th, 1998] Dream of a child, born late and fully formed — with an unmistakeable look of recognition in her clear blue eyes. Another dream of a bazaar in Night City — somewhere in The Midlands, at least — and a momentary flirtation that, once over, stays with… Continue reading blue eyes