Published June 30, 2016
Tags: cats, dinner, humor, story, storytree
It was a busy week, and it had taken Mr. Fuzzles a lot of time to finish up the year at Cat School. From kitty report cards to marking pet exams, the way that the end of the year was organized at his Cat School was terrible. He had finished late more than once a week, finalizing everything. He had barely had any time at all to get high on some catnip or play with Tigger. He had already one end of year feast planned for the following week. Unlike this one, he knew that his other kitten school would pay for everything. It was a kind of local tradition. They weren’t dogs, they were civilized. It was what was expected.
Continue reading ‘The Last Cat Dinner on the Storytree’
Published February 19, 2010
storytree , writing
Tags: India, kerala, storytree, writing
Hello, he says. Hello I reply while shaking his gnarled hand.
He looks like my grandfather. Where are your from he asks. I’m from Canada I reply. I tell him that I’m mixed up. I was born in Germany, lived in France, spent the rest of the time in Quebec, Canada. Really, he asks. I’m mixed up too!
What are you doing here? I’m studying, writing, teaching, I reply. I sit down next to him and he asks me where my parents are from. I say that they come from Kerala.
Continue reading ‘Kerala On The Storytree’
He was 21.
When I heard this, I was amazed. I couldn’t understand how a 21-year old was the manager of a successful firm and that I was his employee.
The most important thing that I discovered about him was that he was a pathological liar. He couldn’t help himself. He would lie about the simplest things and not acknowledge when he was clearly wrong.
Continue reading ‘The Moneytree On The Storytree’
I was wondering why there was a crib there, I said. She answered that when she comes with her baby, she needs a crib. That makes sense, I said. She said that her husband was working in a bank five years ago and didn’t like the repetitve routine. That’s why they opened a bike shop. She said that the shop had a race this Saturday in Chiayi (嘉義市), that’s why the boys were prepping their bikes. I said that the bikes looked expensive. She agreed.
They were all servicing Time top of the line VRS Vibraser bikes. There was a strange intense energy in the shop that day. It contrasted with Diane, who was holding her infant daughter Mei-Mei and talking to me. She told me that I should join them for rides. I said that I would do so when I had my own road bike.
He says that he thinks that food with pesticides is way better than bio food. Why I ask. He says that we have studied the effects of pesticides, insecticides and a whole bunch of other -icides on the human body for decades and it’s been thoroughly researched. For a minute, I can’t fathom what my new roommate has told me. I look at my other roommate and he is also trying not to laugh or smirk.
We tell him that people have been eating bio foods for millenia without any ill effects. We don’t know exactly how pesticides affect us and it’s ludicrous to believe otherwise. Sure out diets have changed, but the tomato in your backyard is probably healthier than a mass produced product from Chile or Brazil.
He says that bio food will mutate us. Pesticide treated food won’t.
I got fired from my job, she says. Why I ask. Well, I kind of took off for spring break to Mexico to visit my dad, but I didn’t really tell my boss when this would happen. I had written this in on the wrong form and my boss wasn’t happy. I got fired. That’s sucks, I say. I’ve been trying to get a new job, but it hasn’t been easy. I gave my CV to a bunch of places. One creepy guy was really interested. Later, he phoned me to tell me that I could work there. I didn’t have a job and I needed the cash, but I told him that I didn’t need it. He was just too creepy. I got a bad vibe off him.