an old writer and his words

  • SHOPPING

    One of the hidden joysof being a vegetarian is thatfor us the grocery store issmaller than it is for many. There is no meat counterto visit, no butcher to engage,and the smell of fish isweaker at even a small distance. I do eat cheese, but notthe sliced sort at the delicounter, I don’t want cheeseshaved…

    Lou Faber

  • RETIREMENT

    He would arrive as I was still strugglingto convince the dog that he didn’t needto drag me around the neighborhood,that he knew the backyard well enough. I’d lose the argument in the end, thatwas a given, but he’d concede meenough time to wolf down breakfast,and I’d hear the small door in the wallopen and then…

    Lou Faber

  • TEMPUS FUGIT

    She parked her cart across the face of the bin, she fills the only gap. She has a look of determination that says “give me space if you know what’s good for you.” She examines each banana with the care of it gemologist and you imagine that she wears a loop. She pulls bunches apart,…

    Lou Faber

  • CHECKOUT LINE

    Time seems frozen in the checkout line stuck between the Mars bars and the tabloids, you wonder how Liz could survive a total body liposuction, and further details of how OJ killed in a moment of lust. The old woman in front rummages in her change purse certain she has the eighty seven cents, the…

    Lou Faber