Fingertip Moments: Stories, Videos & Music by Matt

DEFINING YOURSELF by Matt Carlson

We spend our lives asking questions, like: Who am I? Why do I exist? What am I doing? How do I define myself?

And many times the answers change throughout our lifetimes, depending on where we are, what we are doing, who we are sharing our lives with and so on. Also, too often,  we are defined by things that happen to us, things that maybe we didn’t choose. For example, one day I get robbed on a…

The In-Between Spaces by Elledge

Was it just a thought? A sound? Was your voice somehow reaching out to me? An image and then images…I didn’t know, and I didn’t really want to consider anything. I was tired. Tired of waking up every morning with puzzle pieces of my past life showering down upon me. Whether it was real or not, I felt like my brain was a magnet of everything and or anything that just showed up at my brain’s door…

Mental Meanderings

By Matt Carlson

He said, “I’m leaving.” Then he added, “I’m going to stay at my Mom’s.” Then he was gone and there we were, the dogs and I, alone. It was a horrible moment. There had been no real discussion. The phantom that had been my boyfriend for ten years left as if he had never been there. Well, he hadn’t really. I continued to pay for the house credit and other bills…

Fresno Times : Jane Snitly ( A continuing saga…)

Jane Snitly parked her blue Dodge Omni with its broken passenger window at the A & W Root Beer. She always had a broken window on all her cars. Not her fault, just some weird curse or something. The large overhang at the drive-in restaurant was nice protection from the hot sun. During summer, you could literally fry an egg on the sidewalk, though she’d never tried and had never seen anyone else…

The Precipice by Matt Carlson

Elledge stood there : once again. On the precipice. The precipice of making a decision. The precipice of what was important in his life. He had looked up, he had looked down; he had looked all around. Had he missed something? Because to make the best possible decision, one had to have the key elements in hand. He knew that. But if part of the equation were the people he cared about – where were…

A Bike Ride In Paris by Matt Carlson

A Bike Ride in Paris by Matt Carlson

It was just another blustery day in Paris. Foebbe, Fender and I riding along with their brand new pet trailer and my old bike out once again braving the city streets in search of adventure. The pet trailer is a great idea, now we are able to go everywhere in this incredible but dangerous city (way too many cars, bikes, rollars, skate boards and solo…

The Father Ghost of Jane Snitly by Matt Carlson

She had never really considered it. It was something that she’d just decided to do. One day Jane Snitly bought the auburn hair coloring treatment, went home, read the instructions on the box, locked herself up in the bathroom and one hour later it was done. She’d become a redhead at twenty. On top of it all, she looked good as a redhead. It wasn’t the flashy bright red of some, but more classy,…

Monsters In My Head by Matt Carlson

Monsters In My Head by Matt Carlson

An unusual week. A dear friend of mine has lost her mom. In a matter of days several things happened: unanswered telephone calls, a frantic breaking in of said mom’s house, police and the observation that she was brain dead, followed by agonizing days at the hospital with tubes and such, the ensuing inner battles of letting her go (was their anyone home? the…

Away With You by matt carlson

I was in a dream, with him: Joe. Something about sending text messages, impossible because when we’d been together that hadn’t existed. And he had misunderstood my previous message. I smiled inside knowing we would be together soon and all would be fine. I’d explain what I’d meant to say earlier. Then we were talking and of course we were going to play tennis and after confirming, something about…

Birdsong and Change by Matt Carlson

Can trees be so high? Leaves that green? Bird song so sweet? And dogs love too, so unfailing?.. And what about me? What about this body? It seems too so very consistent: in its needs of food, of sleep, of worrying and such. But I know that if I have the misfortune to see all of it in a mirror, that saggy face, those lines, the missing hair and muscles flask, that all is an illusion. This envelope…

Fingertip Moments About Love On A Log by Matt Carlson

Fingertip Moments About Love On A Log

by Matt Carlson

Mothers never take their love away. It’s forever. It’s the stuff of fairies and dragons, but real magic. Lovers don’t do that. Their love is temporary, a fleeting foot of passion and circumstance. When they say so, it’s a suitcase filled with unfinished promises that they embark with, leaving you at the harbor in the rain if need be. Their…

The Last House by Matt Carlson

It sat on a street with a dead end. It was the last house. A small wooden house from the forties; white with dark green trim. It had a garden in front of it, a tiny lawn, a stunted Japanese Maple and a fat laughing frog. Facing it, on the left side a double swing perfectly angled to catch the sun, when it came out – a place where you’d want to sit. Behind the house, a forest of dark green, tall…

Losses by Joanie (with Matt Carlson)

Written some time in the 199o’s, this was sent to me by my mother though snail mail years ago… Matt Carlson April 2016 Losses by Joanie ‘Oh no! God – not another test-haven’t I had enough already? Oh well, I take a deep breath, shoulders back, pull up my boots and march forward!!! Let’s get on with it and over with… I remember so many things  but I’m always saying, ” I can’t remember that”, “When…