Month: August 2013

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The Haunting

The old playground is usually empty this time of day, especially after Old Man Farthing hung himself with an extension cord from the swing apparatus a year ago last Tuesday. They say his ghost still haunts the swings on occasion, the village gossips do, Verena Stone and Jill Swingholm. The two of them sit on … Continue reading The Haunting

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Trying to Sound Smart

Want to sound smart or want to be smart?

I remember when I was six years old and I wanted to sound just like my mama. I wanted to sound “grown up.” I would go around the house repeating what she said, so I could sound smart, but I would get it all mixed up. When I wanted to say “shirt” and it came out “shit,” though, that was the final straw. My mother sat me down and told me in no uncertain terms that if I couldn’t tell anyone the meaning of the word then I couldn’t say it. So that was the end of my career of swearing until much later in life.

However, I did take what she said to heart, which is when I started trying to read the dictionary. Continue reading “Trying to Sound Smart”

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Question Everything

That’s the biggest singular piece of advice I’ve ever gotten from a living soul, and anytime I feel adrift in this crazy sea of life I go back to it like a lifeline, tethering me to a better version of reality where I’m not its star and others I come in contact with aren’t my subjects. Everyone does things for a reason, and even though I don’t have to always be privy to their reasoning, I should always think about why I do the things I do. See, I’m not in charge of them, but I can think about me.

Question everything. Continue reading “Question Everything”

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What I Saw: Interracial America and Fitting In

What do you see in this photo?

I walked down the sidewalk on my way to work yesterday and I found myself behind an interracial couple with their two children. The man was black, the woman white, and the kids a wonderful mix of the two. And they were happy. I could tell in the way they held each others’ hands and swung their arms back and forth, all four of them. They were also having a conversation, and I could feel the positive vibes radiating from them. It was a poignant moment.

Then I looked around and noticed a small group of other people heading to the same store, and they were also looking at the exact family that I was, but not in the same way. At first it was hard to ascertain the feeling behind the expressions on their faces, but then I recognized it as disgust. Continue reading “What I Saw: Interracial America and Fitting In”