by Doug Mathewson
My grandfather didn’t speak much English but we got along. We would sit in the grape arbors shade. He would say "now we smoke." From the pocket of his huge pants came a can of Bugler tobacco. He would roll two cigarettes and we would smoke in silence, just enjoying being together. I was nine.
Doug Mathewson, author of Lingo, lives on the Connecticut shoreline and writes very short fiction that occasionally turns into essays or poetry. His current project is "True Stories From Imaginary Lives." He has been published online by PenPricks, Micro-Fiction, Creative Soup, and Tuesday Shorts. His poetry will appear in the March issue of eMuse-zine. Lately he seems fascinated with writing stories that are six sentences in length. More of his work is available at his blog.