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The living dead
He didn’t seem to be breathing. The dispatcher asked us to try shaking him.
He sprang up as if he hadn’t been dead. “Don’t you have 500 crowns?” were his first words.
We continued walking.
She deserved better
She was irresistible with her one blue eye. She had to be rescued.
But Gracie grew quickly. She started hopping the fence. Dad demanded I take her back to the shelter.
Through tears and gentle strokes I asked her to forgive me.
The unnecessary repair
I never thought it would happen to me. I had been taught that people like me weren’t allowed.
We pulled off the expressway along an ugly stretch of gravel. David claimed there was a problem with the tire. Then my door opened.
He was kneeling.
The lost island
It had been a reunion of friends from across three continents. Our words were a slurry by that point.
I asked the Eritrean cab driver to take us to the Island Hotel. His accent and my slowness began a back and forth: Is-land vs. Eyes-land.
The tip couldn’t have possibly made up for the pain he endured.
In cold blood
I needed to protect her.
I went to check if there was anything in the basement that needed to be packed. The only thing left was the washed-out bloodstain on the concrete floor. That would be staying behind.
I closed the garage door and never looked back.
I had to see it for myself
It was my first time behind the former iron curtain. No one was going to stop me.
From the airplane window, Prague looked concrete and grey. The lobby of the Hotel Dům reeked of cigarette smoke and musty carpets. Who would name a hotel “doom” after all?
Twenty-five years later I think I got the omens mixed up.
Whatever you do, don't laugh
It was my first-ever yoga class. I went mainly because of the teacher, Drew. I was enamored with him.
The group of 20 of us did our Downward-Facing Dogs and Sun Salutations. Drew had warned me that sometimes people break wind and gave me strict instructions not to laugh. Otherwise he would not be able to stop.
A sudden burst of air. I could feel my face crack.
Lady Luck
She smiled through her sunglasses and waved at the oncoming tram driver like she had nowhere to be.
I couldn’t complain about the smoothest ride ever into the center. But this took the cake for slow. The ride home was equally slow.
There must be a gazillion trams. What are the chances?
She won't leave me alone
There was the sound of commotion. “Perhaps Spanish tourists,” I thought to myself.
Then she passed by me. She let out a howl. Her face and ear were swollen, shiny and red as a tomato. Her slapping ritual echoed down the platform.
I still can’t get her out of my mind.
Our shopping carts
At Ogletree’s supermarket I lost half my childhood.
Mom was painfully slow with her selections and I was bored. I’d hitch myself to the front of the cart and sing the tune for Busch Beer. Mom would cover her embarrassment with a smile and nod to the other shoppers.
At Lidl I saw a young girl doing the same thing, except she was singing a theme song for yogurt.