Browse the Library

Soccer Coach

There are about a hundred good reasons why no sane person would ever coach soccer, he told me on the drive home, but I forget most of them when I’m on my meds & then we laughed wildly in the bright spring air.


What are the rules? I said & he said you run & you run & you run until you fall over. There’s a couple others in there for variety, he added, but that’s the main one.

Smiling Eyes

She turned to me & whispered, don’t you just love it when you get so excited you forget to breathe? & the thought of her smiling eyes still makes me laugh.

Smart Exercise

If you were smart, you’d probably spend more time stretching, he said
& I said, If I were really smart, I’d probably spend more time just sitting in the shade drinking lemonade

Smaller World

I know he’s not really gone, she said, but the world still feels smaller to me today.

Small World

We sat in the car & the night dropped down until the only sounds were the crickets & the dance of our voices & for a moment the world became small enough to roll back & forth between us.

Small Town

Everywhere’s a small town, she said, if you do something that bothers enough people.

Slumber Party

I don’t know if I really believe in all the saints, she said, but I pray to them anyway. It makes every night feel more like a slumber party.

Slow Pitch

How’re you doing? I said & he said we’re undefeated in our appreciation of the game. That’s against incredible odds, he added.

Slow Heat

melting in the slow heat of a summer night, damp with the dark air & thoughts of you

Slow Cure

has some sort of disease where you hallucinate & start to not believe in love, but after a year or two, or even sometimes ten or twenty, it cures itself & all that’s left are a few little red spots that twinge & ache whenever you get too near someone else that has the disease & it’s all you can do to stop from reaching out & holding them close

Slow Change

prepared for most every eventuality if it doesn’t happen too fast


I’m waiting for sloth to come back in style, he said.
You may wait a long time, I said.
That’s OK, he said, I can use the practice.

Sleeping Man

What I’m mostly good at is sleeping, he once told me in confidence, but he added, I don’t see much future in it.

Slapping Sharks

What’s that thing? I said. O, that’s an oar, he said, in case we hit a calm stretch & we decide we need more excitement & also it’s good for slapping sharks.

Six Minutes

Time to come out, I told him & he said he’d only been in for 6 minutes & I said that’s not true. You’ve been in the whole day & he shrugged & said all he could remember was the last 6 minutes.

Single Point

tries not to change perspective too often because it makes her ears pop

Single Mind

If I love you with all my heart, she said, what will you give me? & then she stopped & said I didn’t have to answer that because she was going to do it anyway.

Sing Along

Ever since I found out I was schizophrenic, he said, I’ve been making up songs that are easy to harmonize with. I really like a good sing-a-long.

Sin Box

Three stories: Variations on a sin theme 1.) I see stuff like this a lot in my dreams, so I decided it should at least be doing something useful while I figure out what it means. 2.) I’ve tried to keep my sins organized over the years. That way I can correct it quickly if I find I’m missing out on something good. 3.) This box could probably put a curse on someone who believed in that stuff, like a burglar maybe. Personally, I don’t believe in curses, but I don’t think I’d take anything from a box that looked like this either just to be safe.