drmstream[writing]

- Get your gun. — I’m watch­ing… –Get your gun to show the boy. –Hit that record thing for me. –I said,  Go get your gun. –You work that thing then. –I got it, Grams.  I’ll make sure you don’t miss any of your show. — All right then. — She’ll be back before any­thing hap­pens.  Ain’t noth­ing hap­pens on that show […]

  –I’ve got to make a polit­i­cal car­toon, the sixth-grade boy says to me.  I’m going down­stairs. I’m fid­dling with my iPad and half-watching the end of the US Open.  I’m just happy that he didn’t rope me into work­ing on the assign­ment and that he’s going down to the play­room alone.  Some­times he gets […]

    My face is blank.  Soft skin.  The hint of lines.  More like you than not like you. You don’t like to see my face con­tort, its plas­tic­ity mak­ing anger, joy, sad­ness, fear.  When my face con­torts you think I look wrong. What we’re taught:  Keep your feel­ings in check.  Make the sad things feel better. […]

She wasn’t young any more. You can’t get a new life & still be young. The lines that were miss­ing on her hands were set­tling in her face. March 4, 2011 2:49 pm via Tweet­DeckReplyRetweetFavorite @drmstream drm­stream Beth kept her kit in the bot­tom drawer of the counter at the cor­ner of the stu­dio. The […]

The orna­ment lit up in his hand. It felt like magic. Kevin took it home & wrapped it in paper. When I get my big house, he thought. March 1, 2011 2:29 pm via Tweet­DeckReplyRetweetFavorite @drmstream drm­stream This is one of a series of sto­ries that I have been telling on Twit­ter.  Each para­graph is […]

He was a vio­lent man inca­pable of being faith­ful ton his wife. He was also para­noid. Those qual­i­ties doomed their mar­riage. Feb­ru­ary 17, 2011 6:19 pm via Twit­te­la­torReplyRetweetFavorite @drmstream drm­stream When you tell a story on Twit­ter, you assem­ble it into 140 char­ac­ter or fewer bits and dis­trib­ute it into the stream.  It is different […]

The ice forms sur­rep­ti­tiously, against all prob­a­bil­ity, when win­ter takes a river.  The pieces form inad­ver­tently, bound by the cold, and col­lide into each other, adhered by the quick­en­ing of the silky black water.  It’s like a crowd of sum­mer lilies — but it isn’t.  The pieces of ice are jagged and uneven, thick and […]

In the 10 years since my dad died, my life has changed in ways nei­ther of us antic­i­pated. I want to turn toward new things with him today. Decem­ber 6, 2010 3:19 pm via Twit­te­la­torReplyRetweetFavorite @Kcecelia Kather­ine Cecelia This day before Christ­mas is filled with antic­i­pa­tion and uncer­tainty. The gifts are assem­bled, the rit­u­als lined […]

Louis stood at the head of the alley. Tents stretched as far he could see. Their flaps hung limp. It was hot. On the train down, two women had fainted and on the wagon ride over to the tent city his bowler had gath­ered a pock­et­ful of dust. They had fol­lowed a high ridge that […]

In the dream the dog walked to my chair and looked at me. I had a towel wrapped around my chest and was wear­ing a skirt made from banana peels. “Are you pick­ing up the chicken parts for the replace­ment poul­try?” the dog asked. I crawled into a cave where seven bats were play­ing musi­cal chairs using […]