Midnight Radio Show

My fork comes up to my mouth placing a piece of Christmas ham on my tongue. I chew and swallow before bringing my fork down to take another piece of ham from my plate. The process repeats, chew, swallow, chew. The ham isn't particularly juicy, or salty, or sweet. It doesn't taste like anything.  The monotony of the taste bores me and I reach for some mashed potatoes. Chew, swallow, chew, swallow. It tastes like the ham. Christmas Eve wasn’t always this dull. I remember embracing my children with love and affection. Now they're too busy chasing their offspring around the dinner table, telling them to behave.  I look at my wife. Her soft gray hair is cropped short, her beautiful blue eyes are clouded. I can’t seem to remember a time when her face wasn’t cut with wrinkles or she looked at me fondly. It seems with each new wrinkle the more she narrows her eyes at me. “Thank you for the ham, Cassandra,” I tell her. She gives me a half-hearted little s...

  The rain began as a series of slow falling tears. The water dripped lazily from the sky and I felt no need to take out my umbrella, opting to enjoy the feeling of droplets on my skin. My boots thudded against the street as the drops fell on my face, my hair, and my hands. The slow tears became anguished sobs as the droplets accelerated their descent towards the earth. I paused, took the umbrella from my purse and opened it. Now the thudding of my boots was accompanied by the soft pattering of rain hitting nylon. I made my way to the crosswalk. The light shined bright red against the dark gray backdrop of the city. As I waited a woman was running towards the same cross walk, no umbrella in sight. She stood next to me waiting for the same light, shifting from one foot to the other, shivering slightly. I glanced at her and shifted closer, hovering the umbrella over both of us. She turned to me and smiled, showing bright crooked teeth. “Thank you so much!” She yel...

I almost didn’t notice the shift from snow covered mountains to brown cracked earth. The change should have been paramount. However, the only thing I could think of as I stared through the airplane window were the decisions I had taken to arrive at this moment. My eyes glazed over the changing landscape before me as the plane hurtled through the air. This was the third and last flight on my trip home. I realized there were no hiding places in the unforgiving desert where I could take refuge. There would be no white-topped trees to shield me from the rest of the world. I had never wanted so desperately to hide. To stay suspended, just like the plane in midair, and not have to face the consequences of my actions. I had taken all of my hopes and dreams and wrapped them around a romanticized idea of what my future should be. I had left home too young and naïve and the world had recognized my innocence and found it too tempting. It took action in the form of rejecting me from the plac...