Monthly Archives: November 2024

Brooklyn Spleen

Posted on November 21, 2024 by John Biscello

We didn’t talk about it, but we knew we’d never amount to anything, no matter what we did. No matter how celebrated the accomplishment, no matter how big the fiction and the audience buying it, nothing could ever fill those … Continue reading →

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The Last of the Coojettes

Posted on November 21, 2024 by John Biscello

She was the Last of the Coojettes. That’s what Rob called her. Rob was my mother’s cousin. My father’s nickname for Rob was The Moron. Rob worked as a postman. My father worked as a truck driver for Budweiser. Rob … Continue reading →

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Nobody’s on Second

Posted on November 20, 2024 by John Biscello

She told me I was crazy. It would be like taking out a restraining order against your shadow to stop it from following you. Then, Edie deepened her voice with judicial authority, and decreed: Shadow, you have been court-ordered to … Continue reading →

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Death Rides in on a Pony

Posted on November 20, 2024 by John Biscello

When Death showed up on a broken-down pony, I scoffed. This, really? What, Death said, looking around, unsure as to who or what I was referring. You’re Death, right? Yes. THE Death? You can check my I.D. And you’ve come … Continue reading →

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New York Story

Posted on November 19, 2024 by John Biscello

When the bird hit me in the side of head, I had no idea what had happened. It felt like someone had blindsided me with a loaded handbag. I clutched at air and went down immediately. I didn’t feel any … Continue reading →

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Outtake

Posted on November 19, 2024 by John Biscello

I saw the sign in the window: Lessons Learned/Karma Burned. I went inside. The studio reeked of frankincense. And cotton candy. Greeting me at the door, as if she had been waiting for me, was a tall, well-toned woman in … Continue reading →

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Focal Points

Posted on November 19, 2024 by John Biscello

Deep focus in film, as in the depth of a shot, creating dimensional layers. What about deep focus when one points the camera towards the interior? Not just the surface level of interest or engagement, or the foreground, but a … Continue reading →

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Theme for a High School Dance

Posted on November 18, 2024 by John Biscello

There is a rumor that Laura Palmer is going to be at the dance. While you don’t know her personally, all you can think about is the exquisite mystique of her televised corpse, and how her voice, on a karmic … Continue reading →

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Distances

Posted on November 18, 2024 by John Biscello

In the catacombs of grief, she wandered. She wandered, without thirst, without hunger, without want. This frightened her. Had she lost her basic humanity? Why had she created such elaborate labyrinths in which to wander? Try saying that ten times … Continue reading →

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Without Proper Guidance

Posted on November 17, 2024 by John Biscello

They had me in a corner and ganged up on me. A team of guidance counselors wearing black turtlenecks, black Dickies, black wingtips, wristwatches, and spotlessly clean spectacles. Their voices harmonized in a harsh baritone chorus: Biscello (ohhhh…ohhhhh…sounded the echo)—what … Continue reading →

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