by Josh Delman

I'm a crazy college student who likes to write things. I eat peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon. I've really been appreciating bananas recently. I'm going to start telling people that when they ask me "what's new?"

If you're interested, there's an RSS feed. For your auditory pleasure: my Last.fm. Some jd87 highlights: Live at Westgate, Haikus, Pt. 1.

This site might be a blog, it might be a a repository for fiction, or it might be something else altogether. Please enjoy.

2009: January / February / March / April / May / June / July / August / September

© 2009 and beyond
Contact me.

Mr. President  FICTION  

Steve could hear the tiny feet scrambling on the hardwood floor upstairs. In his left ear, he heard a faint ringing. The sound of the feet grew louder as Steve walked over to the carpeted steps leading upstairs. Mr. President managed his way down the steps awkwardly, carefully making sure to land on at least one foot before moving on to the next step, his metal tags clanking into each other with each movement. The clanking of the tags reminded Steve of his father, who wore his keys on his belt, and they would make the same kind of noise as Mr. President’s collar.

Mr. President was panting heavily by the time he reached the bottom. His tail wagged continuously and unconditionally. Mr. President, that tiny black Scottish terrier, would be a terrible guard dog, Steve thought.

(dedicated to J. Malina) ♦

July 23, 2009

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