“Bebby slams into Florida.” “What?” “Bebby slams into Florida.” Clara stared at Phil, hunched over his laptop, talking with his mouth full, getting muffin crumbs on his keyboard and all over the kitchen table. He didn’t seem to care. She did. She was eating wheat toast, with just a little strawberry jam, much healthier than that muffin. And she kept all her crumbs on her plate. Almost. Any that fell on the table were quickly whisked away. As civilized people know to do.

CW: Suicide References Round these parts, you’d usually have a hard time seeing with your headlights cut off, but I have no issue seeing what lies before me: My objective. My goal. The end all be all of my life’s existence. Working all day on a factory floor can lead a man to believe that he’s nothing more than a glorified ‘button-pusher’. Well fuck that, I’ll make them see. They’ll all see after tonight. “Rustyyyy, get your work boots out of the hallway.” “Rustyyyy, don’t

We were standing in line to buy tickets for the circus, one family standing between us and the ticket counter. Little did I know how this family would leave a lasting impression on my life. It was my tenth birthday and my father wanted to do something special for his “little girl.” He suggested either the movies, a baseball game or the circus. Although I dearly loved each option (my home away from home each summer was Yankee Stadium, and I adored the silver screen so much tha

After inviting me to join him at one of those East Side Milwaukee taverns that notoriously caters to those who like to imbibe in excess — an offer that I subsequently decline respectfully, Mike shows up in my waiting room later that same day. Like a handful of “special” clients, he maintains a walk-in status at the clinic and is not expected to make appointments. On the surface, he has a menacing appearance: a pockmarked face and the black-brown eyes of a shark. He is kn

The food court took up most of the ground floor of the office building. Unlike food courts in shopping malls, it featured full-size restaurants with dine-in seating. The restaurants surrounded a common area with tables and chairs. If a group of friends had different tastes on a given day, they could get carry-out from the restaurants and eat together in the common area. Brian Fielden came out of the Indian place with his chicken curry lunch in one of those styrofoam boxes wi

“Because it’s life-changing!” a middle-aged woman in a woven poncho joyfully screamed when asked why she was competing for the $50,000 prize. Maire Cletz, the region’s most popular news personality, slowly continued down the line recording everyone’s answer. “It will be so much fun! Wooooo,” a thirtysomething skater dude shouted, his face painted red, a pair of plastic devil horns atop his head. Finally, she reached me. “I’m an artist. I’m doing it for my art,” I said lo

Paul had reached, we hoped, the final leg of his dissertation on La-Z-Boy recliners. “Babe, help your mother,” Gracie said. She was a good one. Megan, Paul’s mother, looked to be in no particular need of help, but Gracie tried to push Paul always in the right direction. He needed it. Megan couldn’t do it anymore. She’d passed the torch. “Hold on,” Paul said, “I’m mansplaining simultaneous recline and rock.” He said things like that, but I guess we still loved him. By

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