• Venom.

    Camera number one shows the layout of the scene. It’s a retirement party. Everyone is saying goodbye to a Department of Corrections cohort. We are outdoors, in someone’s front yard. I am between conversations, observing the crowd from a lawn chair in the middle of the yard. Beth is walking around aimlessly, but not being disruptive. She is the only child at the party. Cameral number two (from a low angle) focuses on two women in the distance, from my seated perspective ten feet away. There are other conversations going on all around us, but the sound picks up the women’s conversation – already in progress. “…that child, her parents can keep her.” Flash to camera number three (no transition), close-up on my face; my eyebrows arch with interest. Flash to camera number two. The women resume their conversation, the previous speaker elaborates on her last statement, “I share an office with her mother. I KNOW things.” Now flash back to camera number three. There is a subtle change in my expression. Something has changed in my demeanor. There is a look of suppressed emotion on my face.

    A narrator speaks:
    “I KNOW that I am angry.”
    “I KNOW that I have just heard part of this conversation out of context, so I must stay cool.”
    “I KNOW that my mind is rushing to conclusions anyway.”
    “I KNOW that people come as a package. You take some bad with the good. There are parts of my daughter’s package that I could do without, but I wouldn’t trade the whole for anything in the world.”
    “I KNOW that I just spent an afternoon with my daughter that was just precious, one of too many to count.”
    “I KNOW that everyone has their faults. The trick is to know what they are, and keep them in check.”
    “I KNOW I have them.”
    “Do YOU?”

  • Why?

    It was father’s day, and our meal at the Olive Garden was wrapping up. The refill I ordered ten minutes ago was delivered to the table. Suddenly, I wasn’t thirsty. Feeling fidgety, and seeing two glasses set before me – one glass full and another empty, I let my fingers do their own thing. I took both straws in one hand and placed them in the full glass. I put my finger firmly over the top of the straws and lifted a small volume of soda out of the glass. After a moments hesitation, I placed the straws over the empty glass and let go. This small volume of soda had now been transferred from one glass to the other. Ten minutes passed before someone said, “why are you trying to transfer the contents of one glass to the other with a couple of drinking straws? You know it would be faster if you just poured it?”

    What had been idle fidgeting turned into a quest. Another ten minutes passed and the waitress appeared with our bill. I looked at the glasses and saw that victory was mine. No one would admit that they had seen such a feat before. They probably never met someone willing to claim it before.

    One glass was empty and another full, but not the same ones.

    No, I didn’t take any extra medication in the morning.

  • Low tolerance.

    I hate it when things don’t work like they should. You show me something of mine that doesn’t quite work right, even if it works mostly o.k., and I’ll show you something I’ll fuss over more than a mamma and her new born baby. If it occurs to you that something is bothering me now then something is working right for you. About six months ago I bought an auto power adapter for my laptop. Right now I’m in an auto but my computer thinks it’s unplugged. ARRGGHH!