Thought I'd Share a Short Story...

The Proposed Cover Re-Design

As some of you may know I'm re-issuing Rocketman my first collection of poems, personal essays and photographs with a new cover by early June. I'm also about halfway through writing the "sequel" (a second collection) Beyond Infinity which I intend to have out early fall. 

Here is a short story from volume one:

Little Sister

My little sister was annoying to a fault. I’m not talking about Janis; she and I grew up together and the two of us had an understanding. I’m talking about my little sister: Suzi. Suzanne as she was christened—the devil spawn that should have been named: munchkin-sized holy terror!

Suze came along five years after Janis. It was a surprise, much like an alien invading our home! I still remember the day mom brought all the cool stuff from the hospital. Bottles, diapers, a cute little hat, a bib, baby food samples, a rattle and all kinds of other swag you used to get for free just for having a baby. Man! What a way to score.

The new baby was, at first, a novelty, too, and quite adorable, really. That is until she could crawl. That was when the real exasperation began. Suddenly none of my stuff was sacred. And none of it was clean either. Rather, virtually anything and everything I owned became a chew toy. One minute my finely built Lincoln Log® cabin would be standing, the next moment it would be a pile of slimed kindling so drooled upon you couldn’t have started a fire with it if you’d have wanted. I’d find G.I. Joe® half naked and floating warily in the toilet bowl alongside another kind of log that was not Lincoln by nature. And I’d find my Matchbox® collection with the tires eaten off.

By the time she could walk she was into everything. The Pill swept through the house like a silent tornado leaving a path of destruction in her wake. Things would go missing, too. Puzzle pieces, game pieces, and my stash of penny candy—all eaten by this little “thing” with the strange and voracious appetite.

But, to my parents, she could do no wrong. Nothing was her fault. No, to them she was an angel. When the nose to my Teddy mysteriously evaporated and the plug to my rocket bank (on cover) vanished into thin air never to return I’d had it.

And then the following began!

Oh, my word! Was there no peace from this demon child? You’d think she loved me or something the way she toddled after me. Everywhere. She was interested in everything I did and her curiosity was maddening. I tried everything to dissuade her from tagging along. I persuaded her to lick the side of the deep freeze. That kept her pinned down…until mother found her. (Fortunately, Suzi wasn’t yet talking.) I tempted her into sticking her finger into the pencil sharpener one day. One turn of the crank and the siren began. I ran like mad.

By the time Suey was of school age she was okay. Yes, the scars healed up nicely. And she was pretty cute and, amazingly, still looking up to her big brother. I realized she really did love me and I loved her, too. However it wasn’t really until we were adults that we hit it off. Which is unfortunate, because she’s a wonderful person—kind, generous and (fortunately) forgiving.

Of course, now she’s one of my best friends and I wish she was around more. In fact, I’d even let her drool on my prized Mickey Mouse toy collection if that’s what it took to have her near.