Ed Kimmell

“America will be refused eternity by her own mad son the bomb!”
― Allen Ginsberg, Planet News

“To Audun’s amazement, as he spoke the words the staff came alive and red sparks tumbled down and over the wood. The Empress’s face paled. The courtroom froze in stunned silence, and then erupted with a hubbub of noise.”
― Robert Reid, The Thief

“I stood up to go shake hands with him and I don’t remember anything else. What I do recall is the crowd yelling and me crying, while everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.”
― Vernon Davis, Playing Ball: Life Lessons from My Journey to the Super Bowl and Beyond

“Being mindful of Aunt Kathy’s presence, I turned to reading the Bible while sitting in the living room. It was my way ofkeeping my aunt at bay. Yet, my facade didn’t sustain me for long. I got called to the dining table anyway. Next, I was told to follow Jerry’s instructions once we left the house. Then to my surprise, Aunt Kathy made breakfast for me anyway. Immediately, I was on high alert! “Oh hell, how do I get beyond this meal!”
There I was staring at bread blackened on one side and too soggy to fall off the plate. The bacon was two inches thick and fried hard enough to be a shoe insert. The grits had settled to a pace.
My eggs were a perfect substitute for popcorn. Even though I had no appetite, I had to gobble
something down or risk being ridiculed by my aunt.
Aunt Kathy made her own homemade peach preserves. It was extremely sweet and more concentrated than Playdough. I knew if she saw me using her sauce, she’d overlook the other items I left untouched. If lucky, thefermentation was potent enough to buzz me all day long. So, I made sure she’ll see me spreading that paste all over my charcoal toast. Of course, I made the

yummy sound “yums” as I took bite after bite. Fortunately, Aunt Kathy fell hook, line, and sinker for my facade. “I seeyou love that jelly! But I’m not going to let you eat all my jam! People will pay lots of money for that good stuff!”
“Yes Ma’am,” I said. Simply amazing! Being she had food she thought I liked, there was a limit.
 
But if I hated something then I had to be force-fed.
As Aunt Kathy talked, I fumbled and moved my food around as she gave me directives for the day. “When school is over, make sure to wait on the steps for your brother.”
“Yes Ma’am,” I said once again.”
― Harold Phifer, My Bully, My Aunt, & Her Final Gift