Category Archives: semi-fiction

MIAMI BEACH BLIND by Peter Nolan Smith

Rain, drizzle, snow, and ice pellets greeted Boston on the first dawn of 1975. The weather on January’s second morning was equally miserable, but by late morning the temperature rose into the 40s and I walked from my Beacon Hill apartment to the Mass Pike in Chinatown. The on-ramp was the good place to start […]

TORAH TORAH TORAH by Peter Nolan Smith

TORA TORA TORA was one of my mother’s favorite films. The infamy of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor burned bright in her memory. Her friends from Jamaica Plain enlisted in the Marines, Army, and Navy by the scores. Many of them failed to return to Boston. Their bodies rest on islands across the Pacific. […]

Big Bird Day

Last year I walked through Grand Central Terminal. Thousands of passengers were striving to catch a train home for Thanksgiving. My sister had invited her family feast outside of Boston. I have to work on Friday and opted out on the holiday exodus to spend a quiet day at the Fort Greene Observatory. I made […]

APOCALYPSE NOW AND THEN by Peter NolaN Smith

In 1968 I lied about my age and tried to enlist in the Marines soon after my 16th birthday. My mother refused to sign the papers. The Tet offensive fed her doubts about the final outcome of the Vietnam Conflict. Boys were returning in coffins, wheelchairs, or hooked on heroin. Returning soldiers were portrayed as […]

12:09PM Prosecco High Noon

My high school offered Typing 101. The class was taught by a woman. Every students were male. Xaverian-Westwood was all-boy. I was a math major. My foreign language was German. Typing 101 was for football players. Our team was State Champs. 9-0 in the Catholic Conference. I took Creative Writing instead of Typing 101. I […]