Tag: Creative Non-Fiction

The Officer.

We made our way up the three flights of stairs to the filthy apartment we called home on River Street. It was 1992 and I was eleven years old. My three siblings were younger, but not by a lot. We were all children, I just happened to be the oldest. We piled into the kitchen, ...

A NERDY HISTORY

Of Dice And Men: The Story of Dungeons & Dragons and the People Who Play It By David M. Ewalt 288 pp. Scribner, $26.00 When one normally thinks of the often-derided role playing game Dungeons & Dragons, images of slack-jawed, hunchbacked nerds and obsessed geeks come to the forefront of the imagination. This is due ...

The Kittens.

I was ten years old, and we were living in a run-down apartment building on River Street in Lewiston, Maine. The place was crawling with roaches. It stunk of piss and old beer and cigarettes, but for the first time in my life – I had my own apartment. Technically, it belonged to my mom ...

The Sandwich

I heard the shouting but I didn’t realize it was for me. I finally turned and saw a bald man with yellowed eyes and teeth. I could make out the bones in his skull as his brown skin slid over them. He walked with a slouch and wore an oversized coat with a button on ...

The Poor Pallbearer

I stared at the small woman in the casket. She was a stranger to me, and I only knew one of those people among me who mourned her death; my girlfriend, who I was in a failing relationship with. This was one of those instances where I deeply wanted to be there for her, as ...

My Friend Erik

When I first moved to Exeter, New Hampshire – it was a strange experience. My mother was friends with a lady neighbor, and this neighbor had a brother. He and my mom got together, eventually, and he whisked us all away to his home in a higher-end trailer park from our roach-infested apartment in Lewiston, ...

Secret Trees

My younger brother, my younger sister, and I walked about a quarter mile up the road from our house, which was an old shoe factory still standing from the 1800’s. We clutched large brown paper bags in our small hands and jumped over a ditch into the waiting treeline, where we pulled apples from the ...