Bullies

The percussionist with the tats rips loose with profanity in the conductor’s office.  Diane Rosey’s voice scales up louder and louder.  “You just try, Mister, you just try it, and I’ll rip your fuckin’ head off!” “Oh shit,” Amelia mutters. Dance rubs more rosin gently on his fingertips, and brings …

Long Day

“Dog, stop it–” Emma says, flinging things down on the chairs and sofa, controlling the dog one-handed until Drin calls the furry tornado away. While he occupies the beast’s attention, she eases her arm out of the straps of a heavy cloth shopping bag–it is full of books–and pauses for …

Father’s Day

Drin wipes his forehead and says, “Do you think we ought to start hauling burger boxes again–” “I think you need three minutes more rest,” Dance says sternly, frowning up at him. Drin is absurdly delighted by this.  “Yes, Mom.” “Right,” Dance says, and his gaze goes past Drin.  He …

Seabirds

It feels silly, mundane, to stagger off the kitchen table, wipe themselves off, and pull up their pants.  Of course Drin cracks jokes and waddles around the kitchen with his ass bare and pants around his knees, pulling them wide and making quacking cartoon noises.  Dance has to tickle him …