Serpent Legs

First of all, it was an apple, not a fucking fig. Big, juicy fucking apple. Come ON- I was there. All those painters brushing blood red fruit on canvas: Where did you think they got that fucking idea? You think they just couldn’t paint figs? That sort of art started …

ExPat

There are two large stars in the day sky here, both huge and bright white. Staring at the nighttime firmament, one is bedazzled by billions of other stars, more than anything you’ve ever experienced back home. The bright sky rivals the city below, a continent-sized land mass beaming with the …

The Wood

I never wanted to live in the enchanted forest.

I’d inherited the shoe from great aunt Gertrude a few years before if for no other reason than that I was her last surviving relative- tales of profuse breeding habits notwithstanding.

I’d been up there a couple times as a kid, whole summers with Mom (never Dad- he never went near the wood) and although I remember there being many children on the property, Bertie had established her day care facility on the grounds precisely BECAUSE she’d never had children of her own. Never met the right man or something, I don’t remember the details. We were never close. So anyway, when I got the call from her attorney, Anthony “Squealy” Porkman (of Porkman Porkman and Porkman Property Law) about the shoe, it was also the first I’d heard that old Gertie was even dead.

I was surprised by the bequeathal, honestly. my mother’s aunt had always been something of a bitch to mom and me, something about her marrying a damn ‘outwooder’, and myself being the product of that apparently unholy union.