blog 

by Howard Petote                 Post # 20                       May 13, 2025

The rain settles into a hypnotic lullaby, and she steadies her 

breath like Gordy taught her. Gazing at the windshield, the image of a lake appears. It's familiar, yet she cannot place it. Raindrops

strike its surface, forming multiple rings that expand into other rings, and then a gust of wind erases it all. It sweeps by her like a

ghost, and she returns—water running down the glass, drumming

in her ears, the engine's heat starting to warm her battered body. 

by Howard Petote                 Post # 19                 February 1, 2025

Emitting dim, yellow light, the phonebooth stands deserted on its

corner with Market and Cass. In the early morning stillness, the car door shuts with a thud, and then the only sounds are a buzz-

ing street lamp and the scuffing of her shoes. She enters the booth, leans against the glass and picks up the handpiece. Dropping a dime into the slot, she hears the tone and dials 411.

"Directory assistance—city and state, please?"

by Howard Petote                 Post # 18                     April 26, 2023

"And this, is this from a bump, too?" She touches his lip with her finger, but he doesn't answer—he raises his hand to hers and gently traps it against her cheek. He leans into her palm, his mouth quivering—trying not to cry. "Life is tricky, isn't it, George?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

​by Howard Petote                Post # 17               February 20, 2023

Once on Colerain, Arlene hits the gas. Her speedometer needle

flutters a few seconds, then shoots past forty. It's a straight shot

from here, but the street, bound by snowbanks, remains icy. She's 

late because Dan left late—of all mornings his Pontiac wouldn't

start, and she had to jump the battery. Despite the storm, or any

other excuse, she's due for a warning. Trained like dogs, everyone

is expected to make the eight o'clock bell.

by Howard Petote                 Post # 16                      April 23, 2019

Hiking Sedona, the Grand Canyon and the San Pedro River, 

including a visit with my cousin in Tucson, our recent vacation in

Arizona was a success. The last time I visited—incredibly, 30 years ago this month—was a much different experience. Hoping to explore countless wild areas of the southwest, I became ill in New Mexico, and finally turned my truck around just west of Casa

Grande, Arizona.