Fire Damage

BrockaHistory, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

I have many stories around the themes of fire and smoke. The fears of being burned or catching fire; the costs to items and to lives; the lingering smells of fire damage. Memories can return with the strike of a match.   The master bedroom sits at the end of a long, carpeted hallway. The door is always left wide open, except for bedtime. One has direct sight into the room. In front of a window, a standing bust is situated between the foot of the bed and the closets. Draped on this headless mannequin is an off-white, vintage Victorian wedding dress. Close inspection reveals exquisite lace work, intricate layering, and detailed pearl beading around the neck and down the arms. … Read More

BrockaFire Damage

We Bang Bang

BrockaFashion, Relationships, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

Back in the 80’s, there were a group of apartment complexes close to the most well-known university in Dallas. One in particular was situated to serve not only the students who could afford to live off campus but the uptown theater crowd, the downtown employees, and the teachers of the school. Within this complex, a smaller, more exclusive center existed. A first-floor apartment had been converted into the manager’s office, and this office was part of a circle of two-story apartments which wrapped around a lush courtyard. In the center of this courtyard sat a water fountain; always running soothing sounds. The fountain was surrounded by a variety of plants, as well as sculpted blocks of concrete to keep small … Read More

BrockaWe Bang Bang

Wannabes

BrockaArt, Fashion, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

There’s an old part of town southwest of Dallas, called Oak Cliff. The oldest homes are stately, dark, and Victorian. They sit on large plots of land or high up on hills. The neighborhood has always been older families, as well as working class. It is now predominantly Mexican, with expansive Mexican immigrant communities. It has since plateaued economically but went through ten years of solid gentrification. In the entire metroplex, this was the first place to embrace the hipster aesthetic: farm to table dining; breweries; weekend markets; poetry-reading, folk music-playing bookstores.  As the home values have skyrocketed and new housing has taken shape around the walkable shops and dining, the poorest have moved further away from the center. Out of … Read More

BrockaWannabes

Dumpster Diving

BrockaArt, Relationships, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

There’s a run-of-the-mill shopping center in a middle class neighborhood. It covers the bases with a Starbucks, nail salon, donut shop, UPS store -you get the idea. A well-known grocery chain sits in the center of these stores. Despite every grocery having a floral department, one florist shop has been a steady presence over thirty years of lease adjustments and the comings and goings of other retailers.   Behind these retailers is the shared dumpster space and loading zone. The neighborhood nuzzled up behind it is shielded from this eyesore by a moderately high, 90-degree brick wall. Residents of the neighborhood often avoid the intersection by exiting through the back, aka, taking the scenic route. It was noticed how the florist was discarding unsold arrangements and other … Read More

BrockaDumpster Diving

Storm Casting

BrockaBooks, Short StoriesLeave a Comment

A vicious, wild storm. Coming down sideways, it was a thrashing I was certain would break the backdoor glass and flood the bedroom. My bed would turn into the island of retreat. It was currently no solace, as I’d flipped over and switched sides across the bed now twenty times, at least. I was keeping track; annoyed. I was very conscious. In between the flashes of lightening, there was a stillness. The ceiling fan had gone off. I’d lost power.  I reached out to the nightstand to flip the switch and sure enough, no light. The howling wind sounded like a tornado. Nature has this frightening way of putting the human in his place. We have no control. I grabbed … Read More

BrockaStorm Casting