I always liked Stevie as a kid. He was kooky, and so was I. But I was in my mid-40s when he was born.
By the time Stevie was a teen, his intellect was genius level, and his nerdiness disturbed his two straighter-than-an arrow parents, so they put him in an advanced program at MIT and crossed fingers he’d be accepted by the other odd souls that hovered in the halls of techno academia. Continue reading
Two weeks ago, my neighbor Missy dropped off her parrot JOJO at my house and raced off to visit her ailing father in Florida.
At the time, JoJo, an ancient Psittacine, prophesized that Missy’s dad would die.
JoJo was right. (Parrot Plot Points)
“Pam, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’ll take JoJo.” Missy said, appearing at my front door holding a large, covered birdcage with an elaborate gold handle at the top.
“Well, I don’t know much about parrots, but I’ve certainly heard a lot about JoJo. And, um, most of our friends warned me not to help you. I don’t understand why. You said JoJo is easy.”
Evelyn hadn’t seen Steve in over 25 years. They’d dated in high school. He was the cool jock; you know the type. Mussed up hair, tight grungy jeans, a permanent smirk on his handsome face. Evelyn was the goody-good cheerleader, top grades, anxious about getting into the “right” school. Continue reading
“‘Be Bop a Lula,’” he says.
“What?”
“That’s her name, ‘Be Bop a Lula.’”
Jill inwardly rolls her eyes. Jason has been softly pushing her for more during the last year. More time together, more intimacy, more thoughts of moving in together. She’s a ‘less is more’ kind of woman. At least, that’s what she’s become.
“Why is that the plant’s name?” Jill asks, pointing to the hanging plant in his hand. Continue reading
roughwighting 