Cameron D. Garriepy's Blog, page 50
January 17, 2012
Tag Line
Cameron Garriepy, Would-be Author: Not quite strong enough to chuck that first WIP in the bin. This week's RemembeRED's challenge was no so strictly memoir, but more to pick a tagline for a period in your life. This is me. … Continue reading →
January 16, 2012
Sitting in a Tin Can
Something about the arc of the vapor trail as it billowed white and drifted away on the breeze made Charlie anxious. Can you hear me, Major Tom? The Bowie lyrics came unbidden. He didn't even like Bowie. He was about … Continue reading →
January 15, 2012
Six Unlikely Words
Despite the odds, this optimism persists.
January 13, 2012
A Poison Dearest Sang
Dearest held his life aloft. "Men do foolish things," she clucked. And here's another. Eschewing silence: The band is playing our song again! "Holmes, the pigs are flying, And all the world is green," she spat. The brilliant brain came … Continue reading →
January 12, 2012
The Flavor of Revenge
Rage tasted like cherry Italian ice. Twenty nine years later, standing at his daughter's front door, he could taste the cloying, red drops licked from his hand as he stood across the square, the treat dripping in the heat. The … Continue reading →
January 10, 2012
Music Melts All the Separate Parts of Our Bodies Together
My son loves fortune cookies, but at four years old, he doesn't really understand his fortunes. If they read, "Bountiful Legos will befall you," or "Beware the dog's tails, for they wag sharply," we might be onto something. Alas, mostly … Continue reading →
January 6, 2012
Miss Smith's Shoe
Valentine & Aubrey's story continues, but not here.
January 5, 2012
Hopeful Protein
My child would be a vegetarian, except for chicken nuggets and turkey pepperoni. I know I'm not alone in this, but still, it's disheartening. Why? Vegetarianism is good, right? Yes. If you still consume the correct amount of protein. Tofu! … Continue reading →
January 3, 2012
The Stone Mason
Peter looked up through the stone dust to see Jasper Cavanaugh come through the door to the warehouse, a whip of October wind at his back. He steadied his hand around his chisel, but lowered his striking arm. Cavanaugh removed … Continue reading →
January 2, 2012
The Italian from the Yankee Clipper
The following is an excerpt from my travel journal, written in March of 1999 while I was visiting a friend who was studying at the Royal Holloway, just a 40 minute train ride from London in Egham, Surrey. I'm sitting … Continue reading →
