Category Archives: Christmas brutality

Finding visibility, absolution and closure at the choo-choo train at the mall on New Year’s Eve.

Woo-woo!A Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie story December 31, 2015 When I got back with the train, the Lonely Guy was still sitting there on the bench across the way, his elbows on his knees, his palms supporting his chin. I had … Continue reading

Posted in Christmas brutality, Poetry and fiction, Traindancing, Willie stories | 3 Comments

How to slay dragons.

A Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie story And now I am a man-killer. We live with the consequences of our choices, and we cannot fail to live with all the consequences of all our choices. Sic semper nobis, sic etiam mihi. Thus … Continue reading

Posted in Christmas brutality, Poetry and fiction, Willie stories | 6 Comments

Courtney at the speed of life.

A Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie story “Lord-a-mercy!” I said in my thickest southern drawl. “Somebody tell god to take the rest of the week off. He has made perfection, and there ain’t no topping that!” The beautiful blonde woman scowled and … Continue reading

Posted in Christmas brutality, Poetry and fiction, Willie stories | 4 Comments

To El Caballero Jean Valjean: Merry Christmas from a fellow loco engineer.

C’est moi – Loco Willie – the second time as pomo farce.A Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie story December 22, 2016 “How old were you when your sister was born?” I asked. “Five.” “That’s a tough time to find out you’re not … Continue reading

Posted in Christmas brutality, Poetry and fiction, Traindancing, Willie stories | Leave a comment

“Merry Christmas, Princess Peach.”

There is only one Christmas, isn’t there? Even at the airport there is only one Christmas. Luigi smiled, and his face bore not the smallest hint of sadness. “Merry Christmas, Chloe.” He leaned forward and kissed the slumbering golden girlchild … Continue reading

Posted in Christmas brutality, Poetry and fiction, Willie stories | 1 Comment

Christmas at the cemetery – with Bubba.

A Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Willie story December 25, 1998 If you want to hear your thoughts echo into a perfect silence – go to the cemetery. I do it a lot, actually, not to be too terribly morbid. Potter’s fields and … Continue reading

Posted in Christmas brutality, Poetry and fiction, Willie stories | 1 Comment

A father for Christmas.

“If you give your daughter a father she can be proud of, then one day she’ll bring home a son-in-law you can be proud of. And then you’ll know for sure that your grandchildren will have a father to look … Continue reading

Posted in Christmas brutality, Poetry and fiction, Willie stories | 4 Comments