The Trailing Edge

William sat huddled in his recliner, the terrified tabby trembling in his lap. "What are you doing?" he called across to the kitchen, watching me examine the fire extinguisher. "I'm not going down without a fight," I replied, as I reviewed the Pull-Aim-Squeeze-Spray instructions. We've never been the type to own guns, but I was sure a good blast of potassium bicarbonate would slow down any or all of the beasts outside. No one's ever going to confuse Kidde with Kitten Chow. I'm not sure if William heard my reply, because just then the lights went out. I wasn't worried about that; we had candles burning all over the house. I could see well enough to catch Bandit, the little cream-colored one who looked just like his mama, hurl himself at the dining room window again. Our cat jumped nervously, his ears laid back, obviously calculating how long it would take to run and hide under a bed. "Damn!" William exclaimed. "Was that M

         " I have foreseen a time when cities of glass and steel towers supplant our forests. Fear not! A new place will be created where our trees will be reborn, to live in their paper form, and we will remain their guardians. We will be known to the world as Librarians." -- The Unknown Works of Grand Druid Athelstane First Librarian Athelstane stood on the double yellow line in the center of 42nd Street, outside the New York City Public Library, staring westwards. An uninterrupted view across the City to the Hudson River. The streets were empty, no people, no cars, no trucks, passing by. COVID-19 quarantine in effect. She raised her staff, chanting in an unfamiliar language. The upper curve of an enormous yellow orb appeared at the far end of the street, floating over the Hudson River. The orb rose upward filling the space between the skyscrapers until hovering a woman's height above the horizon. A yellow glow emanated from the orb, reflecting off the sky

It wasn’t the half-eaten heads littering her backyard that upset Grandma. Nor the splintered backdoor. It was the bad manners.    "Ugg!" shuddered Grandma. She retrieved her lace fan from her bag and with a disgusted look on her face, cooled herself. "Those unruly zombies ate with their hands. There is no call for them to be eating with their hands at all. I shall teach them the benefits of knives, forks, and napkins." "Grandma, I don't think zombies are interested in improving their table manners." "Pish," she said. "They are in dire need of training." Pointing her fan at me, "I am appointing you as my Aide-de-Camp. Go get the bear traps and shotguns. We are going recruiting students." I scrunched up my face, "What's an Aide-de-Camp, Grandma?" "It's a fancy name for a ten-year-old granddaughter helping her grandmother catch zombies." I couldn't help but smile. Me, an Aide

Okay, Bernie has bowed out, and despite physical distancing, it's no challenge to catch the howls of protest drifting on the social media winds. There is no one more passionate than a Bernie supporter. I get that. He is to be admired for his young, vigorous spirit, his tenacity, his (mostly) consistent and reliable views, and his very obvious sincerity and genuineness. He's not perfect but he is someone who will do well in the history books, despite probably never rising higher than Senator. His supporters are in good company and can join hands and commiserate with those who did vote, or would have voted, for Mayor Pete, Elizabeth, Kamala, or even Mike. Yes, so far as we can tell, Bernie would have done quite well in the White House.  Or not!  Anyone who reads Stephen King's novel 11-22-63  will see that in the speculations of one author, JFK was saved from Oswald's bullet, only to misstep badly where LBJ was more successful (Civil Rights), and his shortcomings l

An excerpt from a chapter of my amazing autobiography that I have yet to write I have been reading a lot of Dystopian novels during this COVID-19 outbreak, so much so that I am now tired of the books. For those who don't know, Dystopia is a genre of sci-fi/fantasy where the world ends by some disaster --  a plague, zombies, alien invasion, or government run amok, and the world can only be saved by a teenage girl. Light reading indeed. The Hunger Games trilogy is the most popular series of this genre. Basically children killing children for material gain. It was made into a movie that did very well. The Divergent series looks to be the next most popular dystopian novels. I am tired of dystopia because the stories are the same. Just change the disaster and the name of the teenage girl as well. Worse, I have started to dream dystopia. Last night, I dreamt that the lady who sits next to me at work and I were chased all over the country by zomb