Category Archives: stairs

Vamoosing

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Suspended my Netflix account. Still packing, desperately needing boxes. Downstairs, I pulled up everything in that storage room, which was the contents brought so far from storage when I actually thought I was going to be living here permanently, and her mother had finally moved, so I could do that. But only after we had ripped up the carpet down there and cleaned the unbelievable nastiness her mother lived in. bleach fumes, up and down stairs, aching body. I realized I would have to leave some things behind because it wouldn’t fit in my car or in storage, and I … Continue reading →

Slippity Doo Dah

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(or, “I Don’t Love my OTHER Shoes”) I’ve always known that certain footwear was dangerous. The most common culprit in my mind is the high heel-pump-stiletto family of shoes. Aside from the usual hazard of balancing on something so precarious as a shoe with a peg under it (although Pirate-amputees seemed to have mastered it), or in the case of a stiletto, (essentially walking on a PENCIL), there is a profound discomfort to be had in the awkward position of the foot, and the disfiguration that takes place as a woman gets older while partaking of this footwear. Have you … Continue reading →

Slippity Doo Dah

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(or, “I Don’t Love my OTHER Shoes”) I’ve always known that certain footwear was dangerous. The most common culprit in my mind is the high heel-pump-stiletto family of shoes. Aside from the usual hazard of balancing on something so precarious as a shoe with a peg under it (although Pirate-amputees seemed to have mastered it), or in the case of a stiletto, (essentially walking on a PENCIL), there is a profound discomfort to be had in the awkward position of the foot, and the disfiguration that takes place as a woman gets older while partaking of this footwear. Have you … Continue reading →

House of Escher

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(from Brainmatter: Essays, Narrative & Short Fiction by Kelli Jae Baeli) “Where are the stairs?” She made a derisive sound. “Oh, you don’t want to take the stairs.” I woke in a strange bed, in a strange room, the previous night of drinking leaving me with a tongue that felt swollen, and an overwhelming need for a drink of water. My friends had obviously carried me from the car to this bed sometime in the night. I sat up, my head swimming. Where am I? The last thing I remembered was sitting in the back seat of Casey’s old Bonneville, … Continue reading →