Multiple Choice

  • Only after removing the spear first
  • She declined his proposal over the objections of her brother
  • The accumulated snow collapsed the roof killing all of the occupants
  • Driving across Texas proved to be too difficult
  • Short-selling cost him everything
  • He had much time on his hands while awaiting an organ donation

Not Because

She read to me, not because I needed to read, which I did; and not that she needed to either, which became more difficult over time as her vision dimmed and the world became sound instead of light. She read to me, while her sight held out, not because I needed to know the magic of a purple crayon, or the courage of a girl alone on a dolphin shaped island, or the possibilities of what it would be like to be fight for honor on mars, which all still live with me; and not that she needed any of those things either, although those worlds and so many others resonated with everything she did. No, she gave me all these things and many more so that when my own children were born I would be ready, ready to pass along the legacy of reading and pass those worlds on to the next generation to prepare them to pass it on to those who follow.

I Live in October

I live in October. I know that doesn’t sound like much. Those who’ve been here and left say “It isn’t all that much.” But for those of us who live here, the weather is temperate (isn’t all weather a temperature and therefore temperate?) and the food, while bland, is plentiful. Most of it can be picked and eaten raw, although I prefer to boil the tubers and bake the fruits. I’m different that way; a stand-out in a land that stands out from the rest of the world. Maybe that’s what I like about October, that her I can be different, and no-one complains or insists on my conformity.

Truth in High School Announcements

The Outdoor Adventure Club, due to liability issues, has relocated to room 214. Lunch leftovers will no longer be available in the trash bins due to health concerns. The Amateur Car Hoppers meeting starts in fifteen minutes in the teachers’ parking lot behind the school. Yearbook bribes may be sent to makemelookgood@paypal. The Lonely Loners Society inaugural meeting has been cancelled.

Client, The

Client, The. That’s the way he always wrote it down. The form required a first and last name, but it took too long to explain why he didn’t have a name, so when he signed into the social services intake website, he put Client, The for a name. After all, that’s what they thought of him. He was a client, and certainly no one ever mistook him for someone else, so Client, The worked for what they wanted. Everything was always about what they wanted. He knew you had to play the system to get what he wanted, and that involved giving them what they wanted first. No sense arguing, like the need for a first and last name, it just had to be done. The pronunciation of his name caused him to laugh, but only inwardly. No sense making them uncomfortable or embarrassed when they said Clint Thea, or Kli-ent, Thie with a soft th sound instead of the more aggressive form of the th sound. Once the new clerk, there was always a new clerk at the intake desk, called him Clee ant T-he as though accent marks had inserted themselves at random intervals. He always responded to anything they called him and as long as they called him he got what he wanted. If they got what they wanted too, well, win-win for everyone.