it’s about moving, seeking out, involving, becoming. not a journey along a line to a fixed point when it will all happen, when it will all be clear, but a journey within a circle that explores and maps the possibilities that arise along the way. we are here. we are not yet there, or there: [...]
stories for boys
You are currently viewing the monthly archives for November 2008
Monthly Archives November 2008
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Much of what I say is true. Here I am, trying to sum up a period of my life where I understood very little, where I’d like to believe I grew up, where I’d like to believe I learned a lot. All within the structure of a week-long vacation, recalled years after the fact. So [...]
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I was going to go. That was it. I told Amy this, months before anything had been decided.
“I’m going.”
“What makes you think I am?” she retorted. Oh, she was so clever. And yet, I didn’t get her joke.
“You’re going to beach week. Fool.”
“What makes you think that I’m going with you?”
“It won’t be just the [...]
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Like Caulfield and his magic violin.
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There was a prearranged meeting time. That is, I was to come to the party at the end of the night, 30 minutes before Amy’s curfew. This was a favor to her, as it always was. I played her designated driver because she would drive drunk otherwise. I had heard enough of these stories over [...]
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I drove. Amy put the window down and cold air rushed in. We stopped at a red light about a mile, about 3 minutes, from Amy’s house. At this stop, here, the alcohol in Amy’s system had been inside her long enough. I heard it; I heard it coming up and out of her. I [...]
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“He came in my mouth.” Oh, Amy.
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Looking back now, looking back years after the fact, is tough. I’m trying my best to gather my thoughts, to organize everything I want to tell you, everything you need to know, everything you need to understand how I grew up. How I became a real person. But there is then — all the stuff [...]
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Dream with me.
Float away as if you never knew where the ground was to begin with; open yourself up as if it will help. Maybe it will. The taste burns my mouth — the memory of you. You, then, it would seem, burn my mouth. The roof, my roof, where the skin is hard and [...]
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Let’s start over. Try again. Another perspective.
