Have a Little Faith in Jimmy

Jimmy stands about five foot nothing. I used to stand five foot nothing, too, or so I am told by those who should know. This would have been roundabout fifth grade or maybe sixth.

I grew; Jimmy did not.

I like Jimmy and I like it when he stops by. I like our long talks deep into the night. You see, I do not trust many people, but I trust Jimmy, except when he starts talking belief and talking doubts.

Jimmy says he’s never had doubts – not a one. This makes me suspicious. I have my doubts about Jimmy’s doubts.

How I Got a Black Eye

It was the morning last week when the sleet pattered against the front windows, and I remember lying there listening and also wondering why the side of my face was throbbing like a son of a bitch.

Something had happened the night before and that something had led to my face throbbing now. However, there was just no way to know – no way to mentally reconstruct – what in the blazes that something might have been. Point Z to Point A: There was no way to get back there from here.

I reached over to the blinds. I wanted to see the sleet I was hearing.

When I reached over, I saw my arm, and I saw the word “Supertramp”  written in blue ball point across my arm. I did not recognize the handwriting.

Then, the word on my arm – the word “Supertramp,” I mean – it brought the remembering, and the first thing I remembered was my voice, and my voice was saying, “I am an incurable lech.”