Category: Stories Page 1 of 7

The visitor

It’s not the first time he’s come to visit me. Michael Myers has appeared to me in dreams before. He always scares me. I’m conditioned to be afraid of him. He is, after all, a multiple murderer. Last night, he appeared just outside my window at 15 Corwin Avenue, the house in which I grew up.

He gently tapped on the glass with the tip of his knife. He stood there, looming over all the shadows filtering in from the moonlight. I was terrified, of course. Who wouldn’t be. Was he there to kill me? To kill someone else? I didn’t know. I rolled over and faced the wall, trying to pretend he wasn’t there. In my little mind, that would mean he would go away.

It never really goes away

My mom had just taken me to get my hair cut. She had to run a few errands before we went back home. I was sitting in the front passenger seat. We were stopped at the red light by the police department when a friend of hers started talking to her from the next lane over. After a few minutes, her friend asked her who the boy was with her in the car.

“That’s not a boy, that’s Irene,” Mom said. She said it matter-of-factly like her friend was an idiot for not recognizing me. I was six years old.

Memories of my cousin Patrick

My cousins, from left to right, Andrea, Kaylie, Jacob, and Patrick.

I can’t remember if it was 1992 or 1993, but I had traveled back to New York from Lincoln, Nebraska, to visit my family. I had called ahead of time and asked my Aunt Elaine if she would cut my hair. Most of my haircuts as a child were done by her.

I used to keep my hair short and had the same cut often. I knew Aunt Elaine. I knew she wouldn’t mess up my hair. “Just do it the same way,” was all I asked.

The belt

Note: This story originally appeared on my Substack page. I have decided to re-share it here as I cannot keep up with Substack, this blog, and two jobs at the same time anymore. For those of you who haven’t read the story before – or heard me retell it to you in person – I hope you enjoy it.

Lost art, my grandma, sacrifice, and love

I sat at the kitchen table for several hours after school working on my art project. All my markers were laid out on the table in color order, so I could see each one and think about what color I was going to use next. I picked up the burnt orange and glided the tip across the page, blending it when needed and making sure I colored evenly along the paper.

I used to have that watch

I came across this picture today of former Formula 1 drivers Martin Brundle and Ayrton Senna. Today is Brundle’s 63rd birthday. The first thing I noticed was the hand movement, which F1 drivers seem to make. It reminded me of the famous, and similar, conversation between Mika Häkkinen and Michael Schumacher. Then, I noticed the watch and said, “Hey. I used to have that watch.”

In the silence of the early evening

I returned to my car and slipped behind the steering wheel. I had already hiked several miles and was looking forward to getting back to my hotel room and resting before dinner. As I began to take the turn and leave the area surrounding the Grebel Ponds at Fort Robinson State Park behind me, I noticed a large, dark figure come over the top of a nearby ridge to my left. I stopped the car and squinted into the distance. A lone bison was wandering down the slope of the hill, stopping momentarily, here and there, for a bite to eat. It paid no attention to me.

Two days of birth collide

With a high of 88°F for the day, temperatures had settled into the mid-70s, promising a cool evening for the fourth of July fireworks. My mom, and technically me, were all set for the show. She settled into her lawn chair, a cool drink in hand when things began to change.

Don’t do this at home, kids

Aunt Julie and I had spent at least 20 minutes daring each other to do stupid things when we decided shoving things up our noses was not only cool, but funny. Julie was six years older than me, so she picked things that were relatively easy, like Q-tips and pencils. Not to be outdone, I went a step too far.

Wait. I can explain everything

Before the dawn of the 21st century, sometimes you had to visit the more skeevy portions of the internet in order to find what you wanted. It was fraught with danger, but only if you didn’t know the traps to look out for before you began.

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