Pieces of Gravity

Pretending to be normal helps.

Category: Fiction

Mix by Hand

A young girl, home from college, is mixing brownie batter in a bowl when her mother enters the kitchen.  It’s her first attempt at baking without any help, but she’s in college after all; she doesn’t need any help!  She has directions.

Her mother notices her hard at work.  “What are you doing sweetie?”

“Making brownies.”

Her mother thinks for a moment and then peers over her daughter’s shoulder curiously.  “But why are your hands in the batter?”

The daughter can’t help but feeling a little frustrated.  “Because it says so…right here.  Mix by hand,” she informs her all-knowing mother.

“I don’t mean to criticize hon, but you do know they mean to use a spoon, right?”

She reaches for the dish towel, “Damn it,” she huffs.

“No wait.  Keep your hands in,” her mother urges.


Her mother is gone.  “I need my camera!”

With You

Following a heated argument, a wife tells her husband she’s had it.  She’s leaving!  He watches silently as his wife of many, many years places a suitcase atop their marital bed and begins packing her things.  He walks over to their closet, fishes for something and then positions another suitcase right next to hers.  She watches as he begins filling it with his own material possessions: socks, boxers, t-shirts and so on.  Curiosity finally gets the better of her. “Where are you going,” she asks him. 

He drops his toothbrush in, “With you.”  He eyes his swimming trunks hanging behind her, “How long do you think you’ll be?”


Since most of my fiction spends time slushing through slush piles, not too many pieces make it on here.  The wonderful editors at Postcard Poems and Prose saved one of my shorts Snapdragons.  If interested, take a peek:)


The Big Report

Arthur walked in and kissed his wife Linda on the cheek as she was pulling a roast from the oven. “Boy that smells good.  I’m famished after the day I’ve had.”

“Did you have a bad day, honey?”

“Oh, Ed is riding me about this big report still.”

“Sounds serious…Is that what kept you?”

“Yeah, but coming home to all of this is worth it.”

Linda gave her husband an endearing smile, “Listen, I hate to nag again, but the dishwasher is still making that funny noise. After dinner, could you take a look at it?”

“You know, I would, but I’m in for a real early morning if I’m to get this report done for Ed.”

“I didn’t realize Ed could be such a tyrant.”

“Well, be glad you’ve never seen him at the office. When things are late, he gets all red in the face and the curse words start flying.  He really is a different person.”

“What kind of report has him so worked up?”

“I don’t want to bore you with work.”

“Oh go on….I would love to hear all about it,” Linda insisted, and then listened as Arthur explained his reporting duties with generous detail, step by step. “Wow, just one person is responsible for all of that?” She asked after enduring his twelve-minute presentation.

Arthur smiled proudly.

“Oh, before I forget, Ed called. The painters still haven’t finished, so you’re on for golf again tomorrow.”

Arthur’s smile weakened at the corners.

“And he found your five-iron in with his clubs,” she smiled.

“So the dishwasher you say?”

Welcome Back Jack

As Jack turned down his suburban street, making his way back to his humble abode—a small pale yellow tract-house in a quiet neighborhood full of other pallid tract-houses—a horn sounded, forcing him off of the road.  In his younger days, he wouldn’t have stood for such an insult; he would have chased after them, but now he didn’t waste time with such nonsense, he just wanted to get home.  He had been gone for too long.

Jack tiptoed up the back stairs and peered quietly through his living-room window.  There she was, Sadie—the one woman he could not live without.  She sat in her chair quietly watching television in her light blue nightgown.  She came into his life a little over four years ago and nothing had been the same since.  Before Sadie, Jack felt the world turning against him; at every corner and crossroads he came to, animosity and hostility ruled.  And just when the evils of the world were about to consume him entirely, he met Sadie.  She gave him a chance when nobody else would.  She saw something in him worth saving and showed Jack a different kind of life, one that taught him to trust and love again—one that he could be proud of now.

Though he loved her so, he knew his return home would not be a joyous one.  She wasn’t fond of his all-nighters, but Jack simply couldn’t help himself, he had always been a bit of a free spirit. But even so, he would always come back to her, always, because there was nobody else for him.  If she could only see herself though his eyes, she needn’t worry.  Maybe it was a good sign the porch light was left on—an even better one that she had waited up.

Sadie noticed Jack peering through the window.  She gave him a stern look, but he begged her to come to the door.  She got up and walked over, boards creaking beneath each step.  She didn’t say much as the door squeaked opened, and Jack’s gaze lowered as he crossed the threshold and walked over to his orange plastic bowl lying next to the fridge.  There was a small brown biscuit left on top of his kibble, and Jack’s tail wagged knowing Sadie loved him still.

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