Tag: Fiction
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6/2
Hey. It’s raining in Queens and already much too hot for me. I have a few posts in the works but you may or may not notice a little slow down in content. I am working on novel no. 4, and my writing time, my free time overall really, is limited. I’m making this manuscript…
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I, Myself, Am Strange And Unusual
I remember the day I found you. I couldn’t forget that day if I wanted to. You always seem to float into my thoughts as if you’re standing right behind me whispering in my ear. It took me an entire week of exploration to stumble upon you. I rode along that street, a street I couldn’t fathom how it was…
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Cathal Muhe
-Queens Boulevard, 2004 He forced his very own metaphorical boulder across a boulevard associated with death. He always found it amusing to liken himself to the mythological Sisyphus, though he was no ruler of Corinth, no ruler of anything, nor was he Greek. He didn’t need Tartarus to hand out a sentence. He punished himself for the misdeeds…
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Reading List 2022
I’m mildly embarrassed that I only averaged a book a month, and not really even that, but in my defense, I work full time and the occasional overtime shift, with a wife, three small kids and a dog. My free time is limited. I used to crush books back in the day. The truth is…
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All Guests Must Be Announced – Ch. 27
“All the soarings of my mind begin in my blood.” My namesake, Rainer Maria Rilke, wrote that and it rang true to me. I admitted that I never had the highest opinion of people, for my parents, or myself. Nothing about my parents was ever poetic, it astonished me that they even knew Rilke existed…
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All Guests Must Be Announced – Ch. 26
Fisicaro relieved me of my doorman duties for what was my final shift, the last time I would be employed by 534 E57th street. No longer part of the sentry. No more hours clocked in the vortex of the lobby where time split and stretched. An hour at the building felt like ten. I would be lying…
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All Guests Must Be Announced – Ch. 24
When Gerry returned to the lobby he was in civilian clothes. Old blue jeans and a gray Mets hoodie. He appeared to have taken a shower. The lobby smelled like my father, Old Spice and whiskey. Gerry returned the spare key to the Abruzzi’s apartment to the lock box. He had an old baseball in his hand, a…
SEAN GABLER 