Dreamland. That’s what they call our state now. It’s a fitting name. I’m dictating this from my Dreamland cocoon. It’s a plastic shell, my home, and I never have to leave it. I’m not sure why I’d even want to. Everything I need or desire is here, or it comes to me here. I just have to say the words, and my electronic servant finds it, activates it, brings it, provides it, or has it procured and brought to me….
This story is written as a stand-alone short story, but it may eventually wind up in the Growing Up New Jersey collection, a series of vignettes slouching their way into becoming a book. See more vignettes in this collection at the Short Stories &c. link above. We were getting around Kentucky, the Blue Grass State, that particular June. Coming from New Jersey, I had never been to Kentucky before. But my girlfriend back then, who we’ll call Anne mainly because…
A short imaginary conversation. “That’s illegal, isn’t it?” she asked from across the little folding table. “Yeah, so? If I worried about everything that’s illegal I wouldn’t have any time left.” “Well, doesn’t the law exist to protect people?” “You’re kidding, right?” “No. I don’t think so. You mean it doesn’t?” “Hey, look, to the extent I obey the law I stay out of fucking trouble. But a bunch of laws are screwy, or way off the mark. And, no,…
This story, like many in The Last Word collection, is based on a true incident. See more stories in this collection and others at the Short Stories &c. link above. (for Lindsay) One second. She stops to pick up her bag. Checks that it is closed. Slings the strap over her right shoulder. One second. “I’m going out. Would you like me to pick you up something?” She is thoughtful like that. One second. “Oh, lovely. Would you mind getting…
This story is in the Growing Up New Jersey collection, a series of vignettes slouching their way into becoming a book. See more vignettes in this collection at the Short Stories &c. link above. Give a kid a tape recorder, you know, one of those devices that took little plastic reels of magnetic tape and had a microphone you held in your hand, and it was just an invitation to head down the rabbit hole. I had one of those…