an old writer and his words

  • YOU AGAIN?

    On the path around the pondthe male of a pair of Sandhill Cranesstares closely at us wondering, perhaps,which if any of us actually belongs here.We more than return his stare, fumblingfor our cameras that claim they are phones,wanting to capture this moment.The crane proudly approaches, getsinches from the arm-extended phone. Is hetrying to see what…

    Lou Faber

  • IN MY MOTHER’S HOUSE

    In my mother’s housethe refrigerator was dottedby little plastic fruitand the phone numberof a plumber we had once used,my sisters latest drawingpresaging a careerin health service managementa shopping listand my brother’s report cardshowing exemplary effortbut a weakness in spellingand my upcoming appointmentat the orthodontist. In my housethe refrigerator is dottedwith little wordsfrom Shakespeareand Chaucerand those…

    Lou Faber

  • ALBANY, THURSDAY NIGHT

    It is a cheap moteljust off the highway,across from the mallnow almost empty of cars,a room not much biggerthan a bed, a desk anda small nightstand.The diet cola is sweatingdespite the breezeof the air conditioner,the television flickers.I have left a wake up callhoping I arise beforethe jangle of the phoneknowing I will not.Corso lies on…

    Lou Faber

  • IT WILL WAIT

    I’ve finally given up the internal debateabout whether to turn the phone offduring the night, no longer worryingthat I would miss a critical call.I have lived more than long enoughto know that the only calls that comein the heart of the night are thoseannouncing a disaster, a crisis ormost often, recently, another death.I know now…

    Lou Faber

  • ALBLANY THURSDAY NIGHT

    It is a cheap moteljust off the highway,across from the mallnow almost empty of cars,a room not much biggerthan a bed, a desk anda small nightstand.The diet cola is sweatingdespite the breezeof the air conditioner,the television flickers.I have left a wake up callhoping I arise beforethe jangle of the phone,knowing I will not.Corso lies on…

    Lou Faber

  • A PLEASURE

    The phone rang as I stepped from the shower. Soon dry, I listened to the voice of my neighbor saying a long slithery snake was crawling up my gutter’s downspout. This I had to see and I did, phone camera in hand. He was about four feet long, kinked and moving slowly. He studied me,…

    Lou Faber

  • FAREWELL

    Is there any good way to remotelyannounce an unexpected death?When our mother died, her son (mystatus as a son then in flux althoughI wouldn’t discover that until later)opted for an early morning phone call,cursory, the time, the cause, its suddenness,and then assigned me to write and pay for the obituary,which he finally approved eight drafts…

    Lou Faber

  • 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,…

    Lou Faber

  • OLD HOTEL, NARA

    Stepping into the hotel, it was like being dropped into a truly alien world. Nothing shiny, no excess of glass and marble. A simple dark wooden reception desk, a clerk in black with a white vest. A bow upon approaching. Your room is simple, no internet, a single light on a small desk. A tatami…

    Lou Faber