Some moments just have to be written. Sometimes, a simple story, essay, or journal entry becomes more. What are these moments? They are pure. They are essential. They are writerly.
This is a collection of short blog posts on Goodreads...
The view from two seats behind her and one to the left is unbearable. On some days I believe I can actually reach out and touch her. There has to be another name for the color of her hair. It can't just be brunette. It has to be autumn or chestnut or something. And it's straight and just perfect. What do I do two chairs behind and one to the left? Certainly not learn biology.
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Imperfectly Bohemian
In Vienna for only one afternoon more. A Florida boy walked in the snow and tried to think Gothic thoughts. He tried to imagine a series of murders tied to a love affair, but ended up in a Viennese cafe eating chocolate cake and trying to keep the image of an Austrian waitress in his mind. Imperfectly bohemian, he realized he was a century too late for coffee with Freud and other artists.
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The End of Veronica and Harold
After years of couples therapy James and Veronica finally felt like they were on the right track. Then after a particularly fruitful therapy session, James said, "Honey I think I love you more than ever." Veronica smiled, looked James in the eyes, and then leaned over and plucked one of Harold's many nose hairs. "Got it. That sucker was bothering me all morning. Sorry honey, what were you saying?" At the time, neither of them knew it, but that was the end of their relationship.
