Thomas Wictor

Posts Tagged ‘Tim Wictor’

A very bad man, part two

There was no sense of order at all, piles of debris having simply been dumped wherever a clear space had existed. It was a scene of such devastation that I immediately lost all desire to browse and decided to leave. I greeted Larry and engaged him in our ritualized banter, but his heart wasn’t in…

 

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A very bad man, part three

He simply would not listen, would not change the way he did things, and would not stop bringing in more and more junk that nobody on the planet wanted. We had no idea how this three-quarters-dead old man would leave another four hundred pounds of crap for us to sort, but he pulled off this…

 

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A very bad man, part four

When we arrived at Larry’s hanger, he told us he didn’t have the key, so we’d have to go home. Instead, Tim took a crowbar from his car and silently broke the lock while Larry wailed. Inside, we learned the last of Larry’s secrets. His hidden treasure was a landfill of magazines, cardboard boxes, empty…

 

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A very bad man, part five

After we were back within our own walls, I waited an hour and then called Larry’s home number. He answered with his mouth full and told me that he was perfectly okay. I could hear his television blasting in the background “I’m really sorry, but I can’t come back,” I said. “Yeah, sure, I understand….

 

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The Rat Palace

I’ve gotten messages from people expressing sympathy that Tim’s alluvial shanty will be demolished. While I appreciate the sentiments, it’s really time for the place to go to house heaven. Tim’s name for his former home is the Rat Palace. I have no idea if everyone else on the street was plagued with rats the…

 

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I feared all the wrong things

All my worst fears came true. Since childhood I feared pain, isolation, humiliation, incurable illness, predation, failure, suffering, loneliness, not fitting in… And earwigs. More about the earwigs in a minute. In retrospect I feared all the wrong things, since everything I feared eventually came to pass. Tim and I have had this discussion many…

 

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How to recognize trouble

In the two weeks encompassing Mom’s funeral and burial, Tim and I had to deal with quite a lot of people. Many of them are the kind we’ve permanently banished from our lives. Yesterday I woke from a horrendous nightmare that I won’t relate. I was chilled to the bone, my teeth chattering, so I…

 

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Tim’s alluvial shanty

I used to love Tim’s house. Now it has to be demolished because of flood damage. The flooding is the result of the climate, the neighbors, and the idiotic plumbers who didn’t notice that the blueprints were upside down. Mom grew up in this house, the front part and garage of which were built in…

 

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Lookee here! More threats.

Got this message today. I’ve edited it slightly to conceal the person’s identity. we are both very upset at what you have done, and what you are about to do. you are playing hardball. i’m a lot better at it than you are. there is no free ride. you get back what you put out….

 

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Ceilings want me dead

In my senior year at Lewis and Clark College, in Portland, Oregon—alma mater of Monica Lewinsky!—I moved into the second floor of an apartment complex off campus. A friendly Turk and his Iranian wife were the owners. He told us to call him Bob. Though he spoke perfectly colloquial American English, he had a thick…

 

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