an old writer and his words

  • SO, WHAT DID YOU THINK?

    In a few momentsgive or take, the story will end.If you haven’t been paying attentionthe ending will makeno more sense to youthan the rest of the story.You may be asked whyyou came to see it, whatyou thought of it and youwill offer some amorphous commentsif you go with the flowof the conversations around you.I will…

    Lou Faber

  • LET LIE

    A friend once told meto write down my dreamsfor they are a window intothe deepest corners of the psyche.Nevermind that much of the timeI cannot begin to remembermy dreams once awake,but those corners were darkfor a reason, and sheddinglight into them will onlycause the creatures who live thereto scurry about and seek shelterin other hidden…

    Lou Faber

  • LOBSTER SHACK

    It squatted on the cornerbacked by an L shaped stripplaza, a grocery store, shoes,pool supplies, a bank, all datedand wholly nondescript.It was a gas station, major brand,four gas pumps, one dieselbut the service bays had been guttedof their large liftsthat oncegave the mechanics accessto the bellies of the metal beastsand now housed two giant tanksand…

    Lou Faber

  • A BRAVE NEW WORLD

    It is now easy to imagine a worldwhere dystopia lies in waitingaround every corner, always outof sight, always ready to pounce.Now imagine a world, this worldif in 1492 it was a woman whodiscovered this land, and womenwho made all of the decisions.Men could still go to war, but onlyif women decided the war was warranted.It…

    Lou Faber

  • NEATLY PRESSED

    I have decided to stopwearing the only suit I now own.It is the one I only wear to weddingsor to funerals, or a bar mitzvah.the problem is that it needsto be a happy, if only slightly,suit and lately it seemsdeaths outnumber weddingsand Bar or Bat Mitzvahsonly count as neutral nowthat I no longer practice Judaism.I…

    Lou Faber

  • CHARLESTON, WV

    Half of me, according to the twistedstrands of deoxyribonucleic acid,has its roots in Liskovo, which would bea simple matter were there not townsby that name in Poland and Belarus,and none in Lithuania, the language of my genes. All of this is preparatory to my visitnext week to the city where my mother,grandparents and great grandparentsare…

    Lou Faber

  • NIGHT VISITOR

    Across Bedford Avenuein the fourth floor windowthe antique bird printis bathed in the lightof a Chinese ginger jar lamp.Her shadow dancesacross the wall, armswrapped tightly around herselfin the sway of Terpsichoresinging her melancholy song.I hear onlythe cacophony of the drunkon the cornerbraying to the moonand the rumbleof the lorryon Tottenham Court Road. First Published in…

    Lou Faber

  • EPITAPH FOR ANOTHER DAY

    When I write the storyof my life, it will not beme standing by the seastaff in hand, waitingfor the waters to part.It will be sand, endlessseas of sand, piledaround my feet.I will not recount ten plaguesfor there is only onethat matters at alland it was notterribly exciting,no generation perished,we weren’t overrunwith frogs or verminsave the…

    Lou Faber

  • 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

    Lou Faber

  • GO TO YOUR ROOM

    When a petulant childacts out badly, a parentwill send the childto a corner, to his room,for a “time out”the duration of whichdepends on the child’soffense and demeanor. What are we to dowhen the child hasno parents, answersto no one, even his adultchildren, where can we,the observers go, whatcan we do except cringein horror knowing thischild…

    Lou Faber