Created with an old 1958 copy of A Coney Island of the Mind, my own mind and my typewriter.
Tag Archives: reading
Reading “A Coney Island of the Mind”
Posted in flash fiction, Typography
Tagged A Coney Island of the Mind, art, beat poet, books, Coney Island, fiction, flash fiction, kitsch, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, life, little black dress, nature, New York City, photography, photos, poem, poetry, reading, relationships, typography, vintage, willow tree
Heat Wave
“I appreciate you.”
She looked up from the magazine she was reading and raised an eyebrow.
“What? I do,” I said.
“What do you mean?” she asked as she closed her copy of Under the Radar and placed it next to her.
“I was just thinking,” I started, “this is so nice. We’re sitting here together, reading, me on one couch, you on the other, and I’m really…”
“Happy?”
“Yes.”
She smiled and moved over to my couch. “Anything else you’d like to say?”
“Mhmm. I adore you. These simple moments, it’s too hot to cuddle, what with the heat wave, and we can’t really do much, so we’re just sitting here, relaxing, not even really feeling the need to chat.”
“Well, until now. Now you’re talking.”
“True, but now you’re cuddling. And it’s 100+ degrees out.”
“It’s 99.”
“Not if you include the heat index.”
“What does that even mean, the heat index?”
“I love that you always call me out.”
“Hey, you do it too,” she said, sliding even closer and putting her arm around me.
“Dude. It’s too hot to cuddle.”
“It’s too hot to talk, too,” she said as she got up, went back to her couch and returned to her magazine .
Posted in flash fiction, Zoey and Xander
Tagged beauty, entertainment, fiction, heat wave, life, love, magazine, musings, random, reading, relationships, romance, Under the Radar
Sunglasses and Rubber Boots
I sat on the park bench reading, and she came up and sat next to me. I probably wouldn’t have noticed her if it were not for the rubber boots shooting into my peripheral view as I looked down at the novel.
They were bright blue, but that wasn’t what attracted my attention. I looked up at the shining sun and had to shield my eyes from it, even with my dark sunglasses on. It was a scorcher, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
I looked over at her and smiled, she smiled back, but I couldn’t see her eyes through her dark aviators. She looked to be about twenty, wore a bright white and blue print dress and had nice legs. She had a vintage umbrella propped up against the bench next to her, and a little plaid satchel out of which she pulled a sandwich and an apple.
I tried to focus on my book but could not. Why the rubber boots? It was a perfect day, a bright blue cloudless sky backing up my thoughts as I looked around to see the other people in the park going about their busy lives. Not a single one carried an umbrella or wore boots; as a matter of fact none were prepared for any sort of rain at all.
I wanted to ask her, and was about to when a ringing came from her pocket and she pulled out a cell phone.
“Hello?” she said in a Danish accent, and I decided this was fate, I was not meant to inquire about her footwear. Instead I placed my book back into my messenger bag and went on my way, only to find that five minutes later, a sudden darkened sky opened up and rained down on me and the many other unprepared people on the streets. I pulled into a coffee shop for shelter, and before a minute passed the girl skipped by, dry under her umbrella, her boots protecting her feet from the massive flooding that was taking place, and her sunglasses nowhere to be seen.
Words sunglasses and rubber boots and photograph by Christina Mølholm of And the Monsters fame.
Posted in flash fiction, Inspired by a word...
Tagged andthemonsters, Christina Mølholm, collaboration, fiction, humor, irony, life, love, lunch, park, rain, reading, rubber boots, rubbers, storm, sunglasses
Come Here (A Flash Fiction Story)
“Have any of your friends ever told you that you could do better?”
She looked up from the book she was reading, shifted her weight on the park bench and looked at him, gave him a half-smile, then looked down at her shoes.
“So they have then.”
“Why? What does it matter?”
“Curious, I guess.”
She looked him in the eye and then fixed his hair a bit in the front.
“It doesn’t matter. I like you.” She smiled her biggest, friendliest smile.
“Like?”
“You know…” she smiled again, a little embarrassed.
“It’s just…” he started.
She gave him a look, waiting, urging him to finish his thought.
“You’re so beautiful, and let’s face it, I’m average on a good day.”
She laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. You’re just silly.”
He looked at her, a little hurt.
“Oh come on! I’ve had a crush on you since I read your first short story. And then the way you were shaking a little when you asked me on that first date…adorable!”
“You said you couldn’t tell!”
A small laugh escaped her, but then hid her mouth behind her hand. He relaxed a bit.
She playfully shoved him and he shoved her back. Then she stopped and looked at him, her smile fading.
“Come here.” She waved him closer to her.
“I’m here.”
“No, HERE!” He inched a bit closer, and she gave him a look, forcing him to scoot right up alongside of her.
“I like you,” she said, gently resting her head on his shoulder. She smiled again.
“I think I could do better,” he said with a sly smile on his face.
Posted in flash fiction, Zoey and Xander
Tagged books, Central Park, couples, dating, fiction, flash fiction, funny, hipsters, humor, indie, love, park, park bench, playground, reading, romance
Tall Nonfat Chai
“Tall nonfat chai.”
She gets up from her table, leaving behind her light blue hoodie with the millions of folds that remember the shape of her seated body. She takes the drink from the counter with both hands, raises it to her lips and sips, returns, comfortably lowering into the hug that her hoodie kept waiting. She picks up her book, Liars and Saints by Maile Meloy, gently removes the Belle and Sebastian bookmark that held her spot for her, and begins reading. Her flip-flops drop to the floor one at a time as she playfully dangles her feet in the air. A cool breeze hits them as the door opens.
He puts down his brown messenger bag and walks to the counter. A moment later he returns, hikes up his pants a little, and sits, opening the bag. He pulls out a worn copy of Perks of Being a Wallflower, wrinkled almost as much as her hoodie moments earlier. The bright green cover has so many folds that it looks coated in white stripes.
Someone yells, “Tall chai!” and he gets up, leaving behind his belongings and a lonely brown hoodie similarly crinkled. He returns with the drink and a napkin. As he picks up his book to read, a bookmark falls out.
It gently floats around and lands by the girl’s bare foot. She feels the current of air, ever placid, against her foot and looks down. She picks it up, recognizing the Mario Brothers theme and the many worn lines of age and use.
“Thanks.”
She looks up and he’s standing at her table, waiting…
“It’s really old.”
She hands him the obvious treasure from his childhood.
“Thanks.”
He waits for a second then goes back to his table.
He reads.
She reads.
He reads.
She reads.
They read.
Posted in flash fiction
Tagged books, chai, chance, coffee shop, hoodies, Liars and Saints, meetings, Perks of Being a Wallflower, random encounters, reading
A Flash of Inspiration 