Rotten Rose

Percy Flage was her stage name. Not that she ever stepped foot on an actual stage during her brief career as a therapy clown. Strictly speaking, stages, spotlights, curtains, and everything else used in theatrical productions weren’t part of her performances. Concrete floors, fluorescent lights, beeping medical machines, and extras in the form of nurses […]

Poor Little Bastard

Perhaps I’m at risk of turning this memoir into Mom’s hagiography, but previous to her cognitive decline, I can’t recall any instances of her words or actions burning, or even smouldering with the hatred of a single sun let alone a thousand. With that in mind, I’ll now explain the eavestrough metaphor mentioned in the […]