Stephen R. Wagner's Blog, page 41

Story Excerpt#34

Every time my motorcycle breaks down, I know that I must fix it, but it is never clear to me that I will be able to fix it, until I have, in fact, fixed it. Of course, I must fix it. And so I do. I stopped, one morning, at The Architect’s on my way […]

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Story Excerpt#33

My father has always urged me towards visibility when it comes to matters of the road, and he has been correct in this. It is remarkable how many men slink around on jet-black motorcycles, in jet-black gear, praying, it seems, that no one will see them. We do not move in this fashion, as we […]

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Story Excerpt#32

What a wonder is a pomegranate. To cut one cleanly open and then pick at the seeds, which come apart in more ragged and ragged clumps, as you go. The seeds, oh the seeds have a red ethereal light to them. They are neither sweet nor not sweet, and they crunch with tremendous satisfaction when […]

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Story Excerpt#31

The first photos of Cancertalkerous Melonomames were captured on a video camera system in the subway. The images capture Cancertalkerous pushing an old man onto the tracks, just as the train is pulling into the station. There was no time for anyone to even step forward before the train hit the victim. They are dark […]

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Story Excerpt#30

I don’t drive a car. They won’t give me handicapped plates. I looked into the paperwork required to get them, and it turns out that I’m not disabled enough. Although sometimes I feel pretty disabled. But, as I said, I looked into it and losing your rectum doesn’t count (to get you into the best […]

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Story Excerpt#29

One day, while we were sitting in the waiting room of the infusion ward, I handed The Trinket of Trinkets to Irinotecan. It was the special blade from the celebration of Three Kings, which The Tortoise, Hands, and I, had all thought could kill Cancertalkerous Melonomames. He took it carefully and turned it in his […]

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Story Excerpt#28

I had a jar of high-end un-pitted green olives, in a light brine, for lunch. We have gotten away from having things with pits. We have eschewed hard, dark centers – things that can break our teeth – if we are not careful of them. We have turned largely to processed, pitted things that have […]

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Story Excerpt#27

There are three rules for the shooting range in the basement. The first is that you may be drunk. The second is that you must wear safety glasses, even if you are only observing. The third is that you may never point a gun at another person, even in jest, even if you are sure […]

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Story Excerpt#26

I always wear full gear when I ride, because I cannot afford to die before I am finished. The boots are steel toed. I have dragged them across the ground, many times, when the bike has come out from under me, but I have pitted them only mildly – to a depth of a quarter […]

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Story Excerpt#25

Many people do not understand why I choose pellet guns and small engine bikes over proper guns and motorcycles. I will explain it briefly to you now. I am in touch with what I am comfortable with, and I have found things that match the exact levels of where I want to be. I am […]

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