Opening Number

From: crankingitout@gmail.com To: info@fairytalereality.com Cc: Date: Wed, 23 Mar 2011 13:30:19 Subject: opening number i really struggled with myself whether or not to say this, but i have to confess i'm not crazy about the opening number you sent, 'queen for a day'. i've been trying and trying to write something but i'm not off to a good start.  the towels are a really strong image for me, though. can you write something around that? just one verse? please don't be mad at me...i'm really trying. ~m~ ~ ~ ~ From: info@fairytalereality.com To: crankingitout@gmail.com Cc: Date:Wed,...

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Dust and Clutter

After the funeral, I started hanging out in the attic where all the boxes of my mother’s books were kept; the bookshelves in the house had long been given over to knick-knacks. A kind of peace came over me in that room; everything in it was old, and therefore uninteresting to Donna and Debra, so I had my peace. It was a very nice attic, with a window that looked over the front driveway, and let in some nice afternoon sunlight. I did a lot of reading, or so it appeared, but what I remember most was lost hours when I would find myself reading a...

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My Father’s Face

Suddenly Sylvia was standing there, just out of her bath, wearing her fluffy robe, her hair in a yellow terrycloth turban… and holding a stack of lavender bath towels. “You folded these, didn’t you?” she asked me. I nodded, glad she had noticed. She had asked for help with the laundry, and I was glad to do it. Well, the next thing she did was drop the stack on the board, scattering our game across the polished tabletop. “Didn’t your mother teach you anything? What is this?” She picked up the top towel and stared at it. “The edges are showing!”...

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Isn't it Something?

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An Air of Sweetness

From before I said my first word, which was “thanks,” my parents encouraged me to be polite and well-spoken, to polish my best qualities, and to be kind to others, something I never realized until they were  both gone. They had been drawn to one another by mutual ideals of personal responsibility, generosity of spirit, and human potential. My mother wore flowered frocks and a wide smile at all times, and brought an air of sweetness to her every endeavor. My father surrounded her, at times like a garden wall, at other times like a large and...

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