Everything We Aren’t is Perfect by Regina Tingle

Out of the eight Christmases I spent in Houston, they all blur into one: Christmas, Houston (1988).  It was the year my father rented a video camera to record us wandering sleepy-eyed down the brown-shag carpeted hallway on Christmas morning.  We stormed the living room like little elves; me in my long, red and white candy-striped nightgown, Jess in her rosebuds and Jenny in her stocking-footed pajamas.  There at the end of the hallway, we found a camera on a tripod looming in the … [Read more...]

Spider Vision

Let’s say you smash a little red spider this big: .You smear its blood accidentally on the page and when you do, you think about clucking notes on a guitar, you think about how the blood of these little red spiders is orange.How they have eight eyes.  What if you touched your tongue to the place where you smeared it?You could drink a spider’s blood.   Or at least taste a smashed spider.  You don’t, of course.  That’s gross.  But if you did, what … [Read more...]

Threshold of a Page

Remember pink margins on a wide-ruled page?  I used to shy away from those.  I'd write away from the margin. I'd start my first sentence at the top of the page,touching the pink line  (if it were a letter, "D" in "Dear" would be flush with the margin)from there I would gradually drifter further and further away from the margin. My teacher, dear Miss Welker (we called her Miss even though she was a Mrs.), would … [Read more...]