BY Michael

12/01 Direct Link

I woke up to snow this morning.  I fed Chey and let her out.  She made a tight circle in the front yard and headed back. “No,” I commanded, pointing to the yard. Turning around she headed back out.  Suddenly she broke into a gallop and disappeared behind the tree line. I heard the grinding of gears and tiny voices.  My dog was boarding the school bus and I was standing on the front porch barefooted in my bathrobe. I tried calling her, but she was gone. “I think it belongs to that man,” I heard a small voice say. 

12/02 Direct Link

Do I like you?  I hardly know you.  I do read you.  I think that is what you meant. I read many of you, although, I read a different set of you than I used to with the advent of the “advent”.  It is because I read out of the advent pool now, and I read daily as I write. It is how I frame my mind for this.  That, unless I am in the middle of a series already hell-bent for a hundred ways to write a hundred words on the color, blue. Then, I might not notice you.

12/03 Direct Link

Blue has wrinkled in the sky. People stopped on the side walk to stare at it over the tops of the buildings.  In the country, several cars pulled off along the road to look.  One man is taking a picture, his tie blowing out to the side in the wind.  Governments, scientists, philosophers, and crackpots the world over are discussing Blue’s meaning.  Blue wonders. He has always been there.  He has just never wrinkled in this particular way before.  He thinks perhaps he has made a mistake in calling attention to himself this way.  Things are going to change now.

12/04 Direct Link

I found myself this morning answering the “Where-I’ve-been” question.  It is in my nature to disappear from time to time and people always want to know about it.  “Where have YOU been?”  I have finally found the right answer:  “I was kidnapped by aliens.”I simply say. They nod and continue elsewhere with their conversations. I’ve tried other answers.  They just lead to more questions and more difficulties.  The building homes for the dispossessed in South America, for example, did not work.  In the Hospital? I don’t think so. “Kidnapped by aliens again.”  Yes. They nod. You? Of course.  What else?

12/05 Direct Link

Blue – 3

You guessed it.  I was kidnapped by aliens.  Blue aliens.  I was in a bit of a blue mood and was once again hauled off into the wild blue yonder.  Yep, blue aliens.  Not little green men.  Large Blue women.  Well, I was not sure of the sex. I mean, I don’t know if they had sex. They could have been tri-sexual for all I know.  Or maybe they were sexed by color.  Maybe they were meeting up later with the little green men for cocktails and blues in the Blue Room.  Blew me away, I tell ya. 

12/06 Direct Link


The world is turning blue.  It is the snow, of course.  Or perhaps it is the cold. It seems that the colder it gets, the bluer it gets. Is it reflecting the sky?  Is there some temperature gradient that is displayed in the tint of blue in ice?  It is like this, when everything is covered with snow, when the branches of trees each hold out arms full of the stuff, and when you only have to scratch the sky to get a face full; this is when the world turns blue.  It is the true color of cold.

12/07 Direct Link














Indigo has her own history

Her own name

Her own commerce

Her own –

Reasons to hide her face in dark corners.


Three full syllables filling your mouth

Possibly larger than blue itself

Indigo is the ageless wife of a young

Clear-eyed man

A woman whose secrets and


Have slung the globe in a ball of yarn.



Call out your daughters

In pieces of dried and broken pigment.

Chalk your name

On the sidewalks and alleys

On the Tagelmust

On the holiday dress

On the padded throne.



12/08 Direct Link

Blue – 6

Blue Green is unsure of himself.  He doesn’t want to leave the house.  He feels somehow less than pure.  If he could move, tilt, somehow get the green all to one side, split the atom, become blue again…  But, some suggest he never was blue, that he was created the way he is.  There was never a moment of purity.  He will grow old in a cage of off-colored miss-splendor.  Crayon 62 in a box of 88, and who cares if the dog drags him out one day and eats him?  Who is going to miss Blue Green?

12/09 Direct Link

Blue -7

Blue Orange?  Who ever heard of such a thing?  He wishes.  But there he is, dangling. He grits his teeth every time he hears Blue Green complaining.  Blue Green can at least aspire to Turquoise.  Blue Orange is wanted only for his freakishness.  No one really wants him.  Move along.  Find somewhere else.  He moves, face into the wind, into the deep of night, fists of anguish shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched into shame he doesn’t deserve, eyes perpetually wet with incipient tears.  He looks up into the dawn.  The sky, she is turning blue orange.

12/10 Direct Link


My friend Matthew was writing a thing called Blue Log before his death.  I am not sure that I grasped the meaning of the title, or that I ever will. Matthew’s writing life was one large bucket of interwoven metaphors, pointing to one another in obscure reference.  There were perhaps thousands of them and they kept coming back again, repeating like a blues bar.  He kept large collages, colorful and intricate, that were maps of these metaphors, maps perhaps of his mind, and he loved to show them, explaining the connections between the various parts. Yes, I miss him.

12/11 Direct Link

Blue -9

Cerulean blue carries himself with a certain pride.  When it comes to blue, he is it with a Capital T, right here in Crayola City.  The worst thing anyone can find to say about Cerulean Blue is that  to call him that is a little redundant, because cerulean is blue in all its blueness without any blight or blemish, without any tint or tarnish of another color. Primary among all primaries.  Let red be a little loud if he wishes.  Cerulean knows who rules the sky and the seas. Face it.  The rest is just greens and browns.

12/12 Direct Link

Blue – 10

Its evening, not morning.  Blue Moon can hear his clock ringing ringing ringing.  It won’t stop ringing.  A large hairy hand reaches out from the covers and paws around on the nightstand for the clock.  Finding it, he lowers his fist crushing it sending poor thing clattering to the floor.  Blue is basically lazy. He knows he doesn’t really have to get up but one in a blue moon, so he rarely bothers to.  Sleep is more his métier. Blue moon pulls his cover more tightly around him exposing a large hairy butt.  It is blue of course.  

12/13 Direct Link

Blue – 11

Cobalt Blue is a tough old guy.  My father has cancer.  It is a patch of skin on top of his head.  He would not say what it was at first, describing the various treatments that had been tried and its insistent return. I heard the word in my head before he said it. He is 87. “Why are you still alive?” the doctor asks him when he arrives. He must be scared.  But then, I never know quite how these things affect me. They show up in funny ways.  I start crying for no reason at all.

12/14 Direct Link

Blue -12

Blues for Christmas. I call my sister who is a nurse and lives next door to my parents.  She answers the phone.  “Dad has cancer?” I ask. She laughs.  Apparently not.  “If that was cancer, it would have killed him already,” she says.  That was what I had thought from what he had described.  She goes on, explaining things I already know.  My brain is catching up to the revision that my father does not have an advanced cancer on the top of his head.  I saw him two weeks ago.  How did I miss such a thing?

12/15 Direct Link

Blue – 13

We are sailing down the Blue Nile. It isn’t blue.  I’m not shocked.  It is green.  A bile green, a vile bile green.  But I have begged many questions.  Who are we? How did we get up the Nile in the first place? Was it blue when we started?  Of course it was blue when we started.  We started way up and about 2300 years ago. We have had to change ships twice and crews so many times I have lost count. Why is it taking us so long to sail down the Nile? Why so many questions?

12/16 Direct Link

Blue – 14

Behind the blue door was darkness, but incredible as it may seem, it is the door itself that interests us today.  It is heavy and warm to the touch as the blue paint absorbs the sun beating on it.  There are many coats of paint, and the most recent coat appears to have been applied recently.  There are no windows on the door, only a large wooden panel framed with molding that might have been a window at one time. This too is covered with a heavy coat of blue paint. Even the ancient lockset is painted blue.

12/17 Direct Link

Blue – 15

Blue Lizards have been migrating north. It seems the cold weather agrees with them.  They have helped the real estate markets in the smaller towns they seem to prefer.  Typically, they buy in town, smaller homes, and when they cannot find what they are looking for they are not averse to demolishing larger buildings to build what they want.  Biologists have been puzzled about this migration for some time, as the Blue Lizards are cold-blooded like any other lizard.  They are obviously more intelligent than most, but this does not explain their ability to withstand the Michigan winters.

12/18 Direct Link


Blue has perhaps come of age.  Perhaps not.  It has occurred to him that he has boundaries, that he has a limited life-span.  It is defined as one hundred days of 100 words.  He knows when he will die.  He has become aware of the painful limitations of his existence.  He has already lived fifteen of his allotted days, and while he does not feel he has necessarily wasted them, he wonders if he would have done things differently had he known from the beginning.  Still, Blue has 85 days left. It is something.  He has things to do.

12/19 Direct Link


Blue wakes up on day 17 full of anticipation. There are so many things to do.  He must make plans.  Decisions.  A finite life cannot be wasted. It must be planned.  He must live in the right place, somewhere he can suck up life to the fullest.  He must be properly educated.  He must travel.  He must…he stumbles.  Educated. How can he possibly get an education in 83 days?  He would spend his whole life in the university and would learn nothing.  He would not live at all.  He could spend his whole life reading Shakespeare and gain nothing.

12/20 Direct Link


Blue gets a call from characters from another 100-Words series and goes drinking.  The bar is piled in with snow, but is crowded and cozy inside.  Blue settles on beer, and drinks Bass for a while, switching to Zombies later in the evening.  He goes home with a wide-faced girl with blue eyes who sat across the table from him most of the night.  He is intoxicated from the alcohol, and he is intoxicated from the feel of her skin, from her torso, from her touches.  Blue makes love to her. He worships her body like a drunken priest.

12/21 Direct Link


Blue wakes up with a hangover and with Betsy who sleeps on her stomach. She is uncovered and he marvels at her hair, and the curve of her back.  He looks at her feet and studies one of her hands which seems too perfect.  He moves too quickly and his head is shot full of perfect pain.  He has to go pee.  When he comes back from the bathroom Betsy is getting dressed.  She has to go to work.  He feels disappointed.  He feels sick to his stomach.  He feels a strange elation every time he looks at Betsy.

12/22 Direct Link

Blue – 20

Blue spends the day thinking about Betsy and trying to get past his hangover.  He goes for a walk.  It is cold and raining. He stops at a diner for breakfast.  It is 3 p.m. and the hash browns and eggs seem to make him feel better.  He slops back out into the rain and thinks about Betsy working downtown.  He wonders if he should get a job. His somewhat limited life seems to be set up with sufficient income.  Still, if he worked he could be closer to Betsy. He wonders what kind of work she does.

12/23 Direct Link

Blue – 21

It is evening.  Blue has not heard from Betsy for 48 hours.  He does not have a telephone or her number.  He does have a keenly etched memory of the  removal of her panties that plays out in his head in slow motion, millimeter by millimeter. This memory includes sound, and the movement of her leg against him.  It includes smell and even the chemical reactions within his body.  He cannot stand it.  He decides to go see her.  She answers her door, opening it an inch.  He smiles.  “I have someone here,” she says.  Blue goes away.

12/24 Direct Link

Blue – 22

Blue goes home to his rented room, which is half a block from Betsy’s apartment.  Kneeling on the floor, he puts a record on his turntable, and turns on his amplifier.  He sits on his bed.  He is not thinking about anything.  Somewhere his mind is fumbling the concept that Betsy can accommodate someone else while he can barely accommodate anything but Betsy.  Somewhere his mind is sorting out the implications of Betsy’s accommodation of someone else.  Does this mean she does not wish to accommodate Blue anymore? How is Blue “supposed” to react?  Why doesn’t he know?

12/25 Direct Link

Blue – 23

It is Christmas. Blue knows this.  But he is aware that he has a limited life span.  He has 78 days left, and his days are quite short.  He thinks it does not make sense to spend a day celebrating Christmas when he has so little time.  He looks out his little window into the backyard of the house behind.  The rain has turned to snow. The Christmas people will have snow to celebrate.  He is feeling a little sad still about Betsy.  He is thinking it is not a good day to go bother her.  He reads.

12/26 Direct Link


It is the day after Christmas. Blue is coming down the stairs from his room.  His landlord, an elderly lady is waiting at the bottom of the stairs.  Her head is shaking.  She is not shaking her head.  It is shaking her.  “You can’t have those wires under your carpet,” she says.  They will start a fire.  You aren’t supposed to be using that much electricity. 

“They are speaker wires,” says Blue.  They don’t have that much electricity in them.  It’s a little amplifier.” 

“I can’t afford a big electric bill,” she says.

Blue is already out the door.

12/27 Direct Link


Blue slid down the snow-slicked sidewalk. Christmas garbage already sat outside some of the houses.  Blue walked past Betsy’s apartment, glancing at her door.  It was a walk-down.  He did not know what to think. He tried thinking about nothing.   He walked over to Ashley and to the Fleetwood for breakfast.  Then he found himself walking past India Motorcycle sales. He wandered in and met Ali.  It wasn’t long before he was slip-sliding out on a ’69 BSA Lightening.  Ali had to help him push it up the ramp, but after that the big wheels kept it pretty stable.

12/28 Direct Link


Blue was learning to ride his motorcycle. It scared him, and he rode slowly, sometimes shaking more than the bike did.  Gradually it became part of him.  He liked to ride, although it bothered him a little, because he felt riding the motorcycle wasn’t really a means to anything significant.  He felt he should be doing something with his life. It was already one-fourth over and he had yet to establish a direction or a purpose to it.  Blue spent a lot of time sorting this out.  He thought about selling the motorcycle, but in truth he loved it.

12/29 Direct Link


Blue met a young man about his age at a gas station on the other side of town.  His name was Fred.  Fred had a Honda 450 and they soon became friends.  One night Fred and Blue were out late and Blue offered to let Fred stay at his room because Fred had to work in the morning, and his home was in another town about twenty miles away.  In the morning, Blue’s landlady kicked him out for letting Fred stay in his room, explaining she was a Christian lady and didn’t allow “none of that” in her home.



12/30 Direct Link


This was how Blue moved in with Fred and his family.  Fred lived in a small town on a river with his mother, father, and two brothers.  He had two older sisters and an older brother or two who had already left home.  His mother, who was in the final stages of cancer had been moved into a Florida room off to the side of the house.  Blue wondered if they had Michigan rooms in Florida.  Fred had an old Chevy station wagon that he showed up at Blue’s room to get Blue’s things.  It only took one trip.

12/31 Direct Link


It was a small town, without very much to do.  Fred, his brothers, and his father were gone much of the time. Blue spent a lot of time talking to Fred’s mother. He found that although she was close to death herself, she had a first-class mind and a lot to say.  She liked to have Blue read to her or just talk to her.  Blue liked talking to her.  He also learned to ice skate and in the evenings would go skate on the river.  He also liked riding his motorcycle on the icy country roads at night.