(this is the last excerpt from Horrendum Pudendum before publishing, later this year) The above bit of dialogue was the last thing he remembered saying to Percy before his memory blacked out. He’d asked the question not long after getting back to her place from West Seventy6, which meant a large portion of the night […]
Bash wrote his Blue Strings poem on the morning of Monday, June the twentieth, the day he planned to meet Percy at West Seventy6, inside the newly opened hotel down on the waterfront. If anyone had asked who it was written about, they would’ve gotten a shrug and nothing more because he’d long ago sworn […]
from my bed, this morn a cold kiss blown, making its way to the vein in your neck, and to the hot blood flowing there, where your heart reaches up for your brain, on blue strings played, to the couplet beat of love
Unlike Percy who grew up in a small town west of Grey Grove, Ontario, Bash was a ‘lifer’. The midsized city was home to four major penitentiaries, so long-term residents were called lifers. His parents owned and operated Ashbarrow Drugs, an independent pharmacy in the downtown core, established during the first year of their marriage. […]
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 […]
Both Percy and Bash were rookies in their fields but Bash, despite his newfound pride, still struggled for confidence. Percy on the other hand, felt like a seasoned pro, or rather she felt born to make sick children laugh at her terrible adulting skills. Prior to becoming a therapy clown, she worked in retail. Forcing […]
That first encounter with Percy happened near the beginning of the theatre’s fall season. Dozens of touring acts had come through town since then, and with each one, Bash improved his technique. He was still a rookie LD (lighting director) but his willingness to take instruction and inspiration from all available sources made him a […]
Preface I must address the pachyderm in the pantry. This time, my choice of subject matter comes with even more baggage than it did in my last book, Liber Prohibitorum. It’s difficult to write about great historical tragedies in the context of fiction for the simple fact that one always runs the risk of losing […]
I saw a child on the nightly news Playing with a toy inside a room being used As a shelter from The Bomb’s long burning fuse The mother was there being interviewed ‘Cause war had broken out all over the place And when the microphone tilted toward her face She spoke about the future of […]
About The Author Dear Reader. When I was about six or seven years old, the angry guy who lived across the street, rushed out of his house, and scolded me for walking on his lawn. He grabbed me by the shoulders and for reasons unknown said, I can read you like a book! The idiom […]
tin hats 