FPA is away from our Tumblr right now. We’ll be back with more stories, but in the meantime visit us at firstpersonarts.org for updates on events and programs.
In chronological order: Cell phone broke. Train left. Lost tokens. Dropped a stack of ones on the floor in front of judging eyes. Got lost. Made it home. Never did get that passport…
First winter out of small town Washington. Stranded in a blizzard in Trenton NJ’s train station. All my possessions in two suitcases. Rescued by a military wife headed to Fort Dix.
I really want him to say “We’ll call her Mary. Her name is Sue, but we’ll call her Mary.”
Have you ever felt a rush of fear? A chill rushing down your spine? Is something wrong? Something right? Think magic.
Doctor says all we can do now is pray. Gram bleeding internally. Gram otherwise healthy. Gram 100% alert. No! Google…bleeding…expert…stop…yes!…swallowable camera…email…9AM…ambulance transfer…success!
Large slam, thought it was a door. It wasn’t. Branch down. Large enough to be a tree. It didn’t hurt me or the house. Magic.
Vietnamese is a tonal language. Pho with a arising tone means soup. With a falling tone apparently meant I was going hungry again.
Too guilty, too pleasurable to say.