Annabelle! I called. The postman just delivered a huge package.Oh, that was fast, she replied, but the timing is perfect for Monday.What does that mean? I asked.Open it! Thatch called from his bed on top of the dresser. He rose, stretched, and jumped down to the floor to join her in examining the parcel.Give it … Continue reading 127. THE FOURTH BE WITH YOU
Author: Larry Moore
126. FEARLESS
I stumbled off the elevator and pushed the walker to the apartment door. Still shaking, I fumbled with the door knob before I could open it. I entered the apartment, shut the door, and locked it. What’s wrong? Annabelle asked me. You never lock the door in the morning. Just a minute, I wheezed. I … Continue reading 126. FEARLESS
125. MEMORIAL DAY
Memorial Day was on Monday, and I had spent too much of Friday morning thinking about my dad. I hadn’t accomplished much: I’d washed my coffee cup and the cats’ breakfast dishes, cleaned the dirty litter, and made the bed. I didn’t think of William E. Moore very much these days, not like the first … Continue reading 125. MEMORIAL DAY
124. MAY 20
So, Annabelle asked me, this is really May 20? Liza Doolittle Day? Yes, Missy, I told her. I know you've been preparing for this all month. Are you ready for today? Yes! Annabelle stated, we are all set. We are going toi spend the day dressed in our Ascot costumes, and, once you put on … Continue reading 124. MAY 20
123. AND SOMETIMES ZEPPO
Because getting out and about to shop can be an ordeal, I’ve been ordering in bulk and having things delivered. Instead of carting home heavy items, I can pick them up in the lobby, and - by hook or crook or begging one of the strong younger men ion the building for help - get … Continue reading 123. AND SOMETIMES ZEPPO
122. THE WIND GROWS COLDER
Annabelle’s scream could be heard all over the apartment. I was on the bathroom floor playing with a tray of dirty litter as I cleaned up their daily waste. Annabelle? I called. What’s wrong? There was silence. A good minute of silence before I could hear her sobs. God, I thought, what’s happened now? Thatch … Continue reading 122. THE WIND GROWS COLDER
121. THREE STRIKES
Okay, Val said to me, it’s repaired. This is the third time this week. What’s going on here? Val, I really don’t know, I answered. This week, three days this week, when I walk in from my radiation treatments, I walk in to find the window broken and glass all over the floor. I’ve asked, … Continue reading 121. THREE STRIKES
120. WILLOW
I am so angry at you! Annabelle told me when I walked in from my trip to the mailroom. She was on the computer again. Me? What did I do now? I asked her as I unloaded the packages from the bag on my walker. Oh, look, Annabelle! I've got your new issue of Backstage. … Continue reading 120. WILLOW
119. THE RED DEATH
Annabelle, is Thatch okay? I asked. Has he said anything? I had noticed that he had been acting strangely the past couple of days. He usually spent his days helping Annabelle with her career or working on their musical, playing with Stella, or finding ways to amuse himself in his spare time. For the past … Continue reading 119. THE RED DEATH
118. SOAP BREAK
C’mon, babies! It’s time for our soap! I lay on my bed. I had just changed channels from the court shows to our favorite soap opera. Three cats leaped onto my bed. Stella lay down beside me and promptly fell asleep. Thatch, settled on my other side, set his front paws onto my belly, and … Continue reading 118. SOAP BREAK