Refugium

Yes, so many possibilities. I'm picturing some possibilities right now, not that I would ever say them aloud.

During the community orchestra’s mid-rehearsal break, Vic and his friend Brian, the “gay string section” as they called themselves, sipped coffee in a corner. Brian brought up their usual topic of conversation by asking, “So what’s new in the romantic life of Our Miss Vicky?” “Oh, the usual ‘I sure can pick ‘em’ drama.” “Well, that sounds juicy. So give me some T to go with my coffee.” “This one’s weird even for me.” “Don’t keep me in suspense! Spill.” “Well – I met a ma

OK, you talked me into it.

Vic and Loup found a parking spot near the entrance of the nursing home. “So,” Vic said, “you’re hoping that whatever you’ve got in the bag will jog Martin’s memory?” “It might. It’s something he used to enjoy.” “Should I leave you two alone while you – unwrap it?” Loup laughed. “It’s nothing like that. And there will be enough for you, too.” “Well then, I guess I don’t need to feel jealous. I take it this is something to eat?” “You take it correctly.” “I should pro

Maybe I'll add a chapter every October.

Vic tried the phone number for Silent-P Lou on Uncle Martin’s note. It was no longer in service. He hesitated only a moment before deciding to drive to the address below the phone number. Heavy clouds hung low in the sky, and a cold October wind blew yellow leaves along the sidewalk. Vic parked and then walked to the address. It was an old, somewhat dilapidated apartment building. By the front door was an intercom with a button for each unit. Some had names by them, some didn’t. Looking thr

A glimpse into a political and personal future that we all really hope will never happen. Not that it's terrible or violent or anything, just disturbing.

Nov 1, 2024 Washington, D.C. In a revelatory ABC interview with Diane Sawyer which could have significant effects on the imminent election, Republican Vice-Presidential candidate JD Vance came out as transgender today. The disclosure ended months of speculation prompted by his eyeliner and his insistence on wearing a shirt while swimming. The Trump campaign declined comment. However, Mr. Trump himself specifically mentioned that Mr. Vance has been dropped from the Presidential tr

Kind of like an intrusive ex-lover!

I picture these two as people who have great difficulty saying what they think and feel in a straightforward way and who make light of a serious situation by hiding behind movie quotations. And Donovan has a very bad habit of treating Yuri as a child. For Donovan to say in a reasonably clear way that he is glad Yuri is still alive, and that he's willing to take Yuri's word for it that the overdose was not a deliberate suicide attempt, is something of a breakthrough for him. So is managing to get past the River of Sticks without looking back to check on Yuri. Even Yuri manages to demand to be treated as an adult, and, in a more oblique way, to say that he gets a lot out of the relationship and to ask if there's anything Donovan gets out of it. But yes, Yuri's clean-and-sober status is as fragile as his ability to be an adult, and serious issues remain for both of them. With any luck, the overdose will have scared Yuri enough to take sobriety seriously.

No doubt about it -- codependency keeps you on your toes!

Yuri was in Hell, and it was up to Donovan to get him out. Dr. Graves at the hospital said that Yuri was doing as well as could be expected. But it had been a close call. Although Yuri’s heart had stopped briefly during the overdose, there was no damage to his brain or major organs. How appropriate, Donovan thought, that the staff placed Yuri’s brain in a separate category from “major organs.” But Yuri’s mental state might still be fragile, and it was unclear if the overdose was a suicide a

Picking up Yuri from the hospital, Donovan finds himself in a test of his trust.

Yay! I love happy endings.

A typical share at a meeting of an atypical 12-step group.

A man sits alone on a chair, facing the audience. Behind him, a sign reads “TBLA – Monday Night Meeting.” There may also be posters with twelve-step slogans. He says: I’m awfully nervous. This is the first time I’ve shared in a meeting. I mean in this program. I’ve shared in my other twelve-step programs, or most of them. Okay, here goes. Hi, I’m Bill and I’m a teddy bear lover. (Audience response: “Hi, Bill.”) Well, where to start? I guess with my first teddy bear. I got him fo

I'm glad you have enjoyed them. This one was an interesting exercise, researching the actual events of A.J. Ritter's life and weaving a love story into them.

Please -- Sequel! Prequel! Racquel! Anyquel!

I don't know where Sammy went, the damn author left it ambiguous at best. Maybe Sammy and the mule just went down into town to arrange a funeral. Or maybe Sammy really was a psychopomp and he and the General are off to lead Ritter through the Bardo. I haven't seen a cause of death for Ritter. The way his illness was described in the newspaper - ill for some time, didn't think it was serious, it proved to be so, death was sudden, Ritter's age at the time of death - suggests heart disease to me: angina for some time and then a fatal heart attack. But for dramatic purposes I chose tuberculosis, because I wanted his fatal illness to be the result of an act of generosity. I very much appreciate your comments.

Thank you for reading. And I still have a drawer full of old photographs...

April, 1899 The house Ritter and Samael shared stood a few yards from the old shack, which Ritter continued to use as a toolshed and tinkering station. There he continued to perfect his dry washer for separating gold from ore without using water, invented a fruit canning machine, and played with designs for other devices. Joe Corbin and Dutch Vos had helped them build their house. While Samael constructed their water-slowing leaky rock dams in the arroyo and built a garden in the flood

I decided to stick with A.J. Ritter's actual historical death date. All will be revealed tomorrow. (Well, almost all.) At least that Chinese medicine gives our boys a few good years.

If Mel Brooks can laugh at Hitler, this is the least we can do.

Remember, you can't misspell "seminarian" without "semen." Or something.

You know, growing up with the television special "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," and remembering how cute the Abominable Snowman was, I always thought "abomination" just meant something adorable. That's what I get for substituting Rankin/Bass for solid religious instruction.