An apology, and a story

So, an apology for neglecting this blog for way too long. Yes, I have other duties at other blogs, and of course a non-blogging, non-Twittering life. But this will never be anywhere near a success if I don’t at least try to work at it. So, I resolve to read more about non-political life, so that I can write more about non-political life. I’m sometimes under the impression that I have something useful to say.

Therefore, a story I wrote some time ago, part of a series I began called “Dramas & Fables”, which I hope to take up again as a palate cleanser while I work on finishing editing on the novel and composing the long poem.

This is one of the “Dramas”. It’s called “Waiting for Cecily”.


Alma said, “Well, I don’t like it at all. No, not a bit. I mean, divorce is never the answer, is it? I mean, it’s against God’s law, isn’t it?”

“I guess it’s a good thing we don’t live in Iran,” her daughter, Lourdes, said.

Alma looked at her blankly. “Ay, what does Iran have to do with it? This is you! You won’t be able to take communion, ever! Not unless you get an annulment.” She kneaded the masa furiously, digging her fingers into it. “Can you get an annulment? I mean, you did marry young, didn’t you? We can tell the archdiocese that you weren’t emotionally mature.”

Lourdes, narrowing her eyes, said, “Maybe I don’t care about communion.”

Ay, ay, that was never the thing to say to Alma. “Lourdes, I’ve lost your sister. I don’t want to lose you too! It would be too much to bear! I can’t be the only one in communion with the Church. No one will be left to say Masses for me after I’m gone!”

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