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WWYD
How often have I seen somethinglike WWBD – what would Buddha do –but lately I’ve stoppedto think about that. What if old Gautama Siddharthawere to arrive here, now,what would the Buddha doin a world gone wholly mad? Would he bother with sutras,bother with teishos to the fewstill willing to listen, or wouldhe check himself into…
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UNDER THE BED
There was a ghostor two for a short while,that lived under my bedwhen I was three or four. My mother said theywere not real, she couldn’tsee them when she looked,so they were all in my mind. I had to tell her that youdon’t ever actually see ghosts,you just know they are therebecause you sense their…
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HYMNAL
Open to page 147 of your hymnals.There is nothing to sing therefor the words of promise oncefound there have witheredand faded, carried off on nowtoxic winds, so hold your breathor whatever heaven you imaginewill be too soon be approachingat a speed exceeding imagination. You don’t remember how you got here,things happened around youwhen you weren’t…
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ONE WAY TICKET
He steps off the train. He looks around expecting her to be there. She said she would meet him. It is why he came. She does not answer her phone. As the night approaches, he gets a text message, waits patiently for the next train back to where he started. Appeared in 50 Word Stories,…
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ET TU
As kids every couple of weekswe’d take our allowances,go down to the variety storeand buy the latest DC comic. Larry and I would spendthat afternoon imaginingwe were whatever superherowas featured in our new,and now most prized book. Jimmy was with usall the way, but admittedhe wanted to be Lex Luthor oror the Joker, or better…
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ACCESSIBILITY
Technology has afforded those of uswith impairments the abilityto more fully participatein the world around us. However we can never lose sight,a painful use of the phrasein my case, of its imperfections. Perhaps it is merely anticipatingthe future of our species, as whenthe phones captioning decideda somewhat elided Marsha and Barrywas in fact Martian berries.As…
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WHITE BREAD
He was nondescript, innocuous. He named his dog Dog. His cat was called Cat. He grew daring with his parakeet and named it Wings. He wore beige from head to toe. Even his Sunday best, his “weddings and funerals suit” he called it, was beige. People wondered if his underwear was beige. He swore that…
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CERTAIN MORNINGS
There are morningswhen I wishI could be the cat,sit in the corner,close my eyes andwatch the worldsuddenly disappear.The cat breaksmy reverie, purringthere is room for oneand this roleis all mine. First appeared in The Flying Dodo, Issue 4, January 2023https://fantasyfantasywave.wixsite.com/my-site/louis-faber-certain-mornings
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THE OLD ROCKER
I reached the point in lifewhere I know the Byrds were right,I was so much older then,I’m younger than that now, andfor good measure Jethro Tull knewI was too old to rock ‘n’ rollbut far too young to die.And yet I am still inchoate,a product of the Big Bang, stellardust accreted temporarily.And the Webb Space…
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LEFT HANGING
Why is it that so many songwritershave an intense need, a desire really,to leave the listener wonderingin frustration at how the story ends. I can forgive Leonard Cohen for hisHallelujah for no one is quite certainhow many verses he wrote, althoughmore than 80 seems to be the number,so perhaps a missing one or tenconcludes the…
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an old writer and his words 