Author Archives: John Swinburn

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes

Driving Miss Crazy

The first Ford Fascista came off the Mountain Pine, Arkansas assembly line on November 29, 2026, five days ahead of schedule and twenty years to the day after Mountain Pine effectively died when Weyerhaeuser shut down its plywood and veneer … Continue reading

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One Hundred Forty-Three

New tires. Check. New brake pads. Check. New headlights ordered. Check. Front-end alignment scheduled. Not yet, but soon. Won’t be long now before our thirteen-year-old’s reconstructive and cosmetic surgery makes her an almost attractive ride.

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Stripper Pole

Skin like leather dissolves into hot slippery steam as she envelopes the married men, all of them, in her strident wantonness, encircling their hopeless fidelity with smooth fingers and silky skin, rupturing their resolve, turning yearning into unchecked lust and … Continue reading

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One Hundred Forty-Two

Kindness is such an easy habit to fall out of. My advice to myself, and anyone else who’s reading this, is to practice it every day so it becomes second nature.

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Emptiness

He collects knives, coffee mugs, antique bottles, and straight razors, things hidden on crowded shelves in junk shops and garage sales, things you don’t find without investing time and patience in dreary places with cast-off history on public display. His … Continue reading

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One Hundred Forty-One

I remember a time, years ago, in an old, worn coffee shop, when I saw a man sheepishly wipe caked sugar from his face.  Coffee had dribbled from his cup, catching his lower lip and chin before it spilled onto his shirt. He … Continue reading

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A Day in the Life of…Some People

Yesterday’s explorations began early, encouraged by the promise of a free promotional license plate and the allure of a pancake breakfast. We left the house around 6:15, two and a quarter hours after I got up, an unusually early start for my … Continue reading

Posted in Just Thinking, Travel | 3 Comments

One Hundred Forty

Dusk invades late in the day and light begins to drain from the sky. As nightfall approaches, the speed of its disappearance accelerates, as if daylight were running away as fast as it can from the approaching darkness.  Is darkness the absence … Continue reading

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Buxom

Her smile was translucent, dimming—but not concealing—the rage behind her face full of perfect teeth. She had reason to be enraged. Preston Smithers had stolen her lawnmower, the same Preston Smithers who bought his daughter a brand new Porsche Carrera for her sixteenth … Continue reading

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One Hundred Thirty-Nine

Overcoming challenges or, at least, meeting them head-on offers a great sense of personal satisfaction.

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Dimming of the Light

Eventually, the light dims. The sun slips beneath the horizon. Darkness falls like an opaque curtain, hiding the unseen creatures who thrive on the absence of light. Fear grows in darkness, the way flowers flourish in light, except fear needs … Continue reading

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One Hundred Thirty-Eight

It feels so damn good to learn new things, doesn’t it? I mean, if every day simply brought more of the same stuff you already knew, wouldn’t you want to swallow a Walmart-sized bottle of sleeping pills? Some days I … Continue reading

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Un Qualunque Mattino

Some of my favorite tunes are by Gianmaria Testa, an Italian singer-songwriter. I do not understand the words to any of his music because I do not speak Italian, but I think I understand the emotions of the music. Still, I wish I … Continue reading

Posted in Language, Music | 4 Comments

One Hundred Thirty-Seven

Is there a ground pork shortage nationwide, or is it just in the vicinity of Hot Springs? I have been looking for ground pork for days.  How can I make pork congee without ground pork? I finally took desperate measures yesterday … Continue reading

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Decay

He looked closely at the skin on his forearms. Aside from noticing the moles and freckles and imperfections that had marked his skin for a lifetime, he noticed an absence there. Gone was the softness, the suppleness, that belonged to that … Continue reading

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Hiding

I sat listening to music last night, music that moves me.  And I became angry. I became angry because I felt tears on my cheeks. Those tears reminded me that some people close to me would have laughed at those … Continue reading

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One Hundred Thirty-Six

If I were forced to say what happiness smells like, I would speak of freshly ground coffee.

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Smithy vignette

I watched his hammer slam, over and over and over again, against the white-hot piece of iron. The metal seemed to resist the brutality. Its shape did not change; only sparks. Yet the smithy continued beating the strap of metal without mercy, as … Continue reading

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One Hundred Thirty-Five

If you love me, you’ll kiss me from time to time. It’s as simple as that. And my role in this love-fest is identical to yours. So there you go. Your status, and mine, will be apparent in short order, … Continue reading

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Languishing

The shriveled old women and wizened old men—sitting alone in wheel chairs and recliners in a large, airy room—look upset. They have reason to be angry. Trapped in uncooperative bodies, they are forced to live in a prison for the weak … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Health, Love, Philosophy | 2 Comments

One Hundred Thirty-Four

Drifting through a sleepless night, I stopped in on an occasional haunting dream. Once, a rental car’s tires went flat, sending the car into a ditch and exposing collapsible rims and shredded tires. Later, or perhaps earlier, a woman flirted … Continue reading

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Imperfections

I once started making a list of my imperfections, with the idea that I could take action to correct my weaknesses only if I were fully conscious of them. Initially, only a few were blatantly obvious to me, but as I sat … Continue reading

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One Hundred Thirty-Three

One distinctly negative effect of the internet is the fact that the definition of  “news media” is coming apart at the seams. Where does one find “news” versus opinions and active partisanship masquerading as news? In Hot Springs, AR, a “news” … Continue reading

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Felicity

I’ve been thinking for months about writing a companion piece to The Story of Steve. Occasionally, I write a paragraph, but almost immediately discard it.  Nothing seems to work.  Today, instead of discarding what I’ve written, I’m putting it here.  Maybe that … Continue reading

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One Hundred Thirty-Two

It’s humbling to be surrounded by talent. The presence of so much talent could overwhelm one’s efforts to develop it in oneself, but that would be a shame. Rather than feeling surrounded by impossible-to-scale walls of talent, it pays to see the hundreds … Continue reading

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