The other morning an agitated kid boarded my bus and plopped down next to me. Poaching my space, leaning over my lap, he was coo-ing, crowing even, like a gangly anxious bird. In his hand I saw a note:
1. Pull cord when you see the 7-11
2. Get off the bus
Somebody had clearly thought through the chain of events for this birdy boy. I wondered if previous notes had omitted the part about de-busing, if he'd ridden around town until the route ended and the exasperated driver ended his or her shift and tried to figure out what to do about the kid cawing in the back.
Voicelessness and despair aside--snarky I know--it's been an insanely busy week. Last Thursday I had the pleasure of ushering with a g...
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...