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I didn’t receive this taxi call again. One night when after I got off work and got home about three in the morning I sat down in my canvas, director’s chair and started sipping on a beer. I did this when I came home from work just to unwind and think about all the things that happened that day. I often called taxi driving condensed cream of life. One night of it was that intense.
As I thought about all the amazing things I had experienced that day on the job I thought of “the spider lady” as I had come to think of her. A poem came into my mind. A very short poem but I felt compelled to write it down. Perhaps I was on my second beer but my mind in the subdued lighting of my apartment where I was contemplating seemed to be in the darkness of the universe and I wrote down the poem:
She turns herself into a spider
And spins a web
I don’t know why I felt compelled to write it in my notebook or why so few words seemed so important to write down. I sat and my thoughts wandered to other things.
One night at the end of the taxi swing shift some of the taxi drivers were congregated in the dispatch office to pay their lease money to the company after the bar rush was over. A young woman cab driver who was known to be a lesbian said something because the conversation had come around to talking about the spider lady. Other drivers had done deliveries to her, also. The young woman cab driver’s friend, Janice, was there. Janice was a friend of hers from college. They had been on the women’s volleyball team together. The taxi dispatcher on duty was a lady named Norma, a petite blonde woman who worked the graveyard shift. She was one of the most skillful and crooked of dispatchers. The young lesbian woman started talking about the spider lady.
She said that the woman was a poetess and she was well off because of the sales of her poetry. She said that her poetry was really weird and that it sold well in the San Francisco area. She said that she knew about this because some of her friends knew about the woman and her poetry and recognized her name.
They asked me why I called her the spider lady and I told them the story. They loved the story and when some of the men cab drivers coming off of their shift walked into the office they told them that I had a great story about the woman that I called the spider lady so I repeated the entire story. The men cab drivers who had many cab driver stories of their own were impressed.
The Spider Lady and Other Short Stories and Poetry is not only a collection of short stories, poetry, aphorisms and humor but, also, a collection of illustrations and photography. All by the author.
Thank you to all the websites that have referred to my blog with links!
I hope people will be entertained with my writing! I like to
have fun with literary clichés. I have made literary references
that seem to turn in on themselves about literature and writing
itself. My goal is to inspire imaginations! If I have succeeded
in that then it is an accomplishment.
The Dream, The Spider Lady, McArthur Street, Catholic
School Stories and Liquor Store Stories are works of creative
non-fiction. If you are wondering how The Dream could be
non-fiction it is because it is straight reportage of an actual
dream I had. All the events in my non-fiction stories are true
to the best of my memory. The creativity is in how I tell the
story. The Talisman is a psychological fantasy and The Ghost
Ship is just a great, ghost story!
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