Category Archives: semi-fiction

DUST THEN MUD by Peter Nolan Smith

Thailand was a different world in 1990. Shady trees lined the sois. The klongs of Bangkok led to the Chao Phyra River. Barges transported rice from up-country. After a short stay at the Malaysia Hotel I was ready to head north to Chiang Mai. The train from Hualamphong Station left at 6pm. I booked a […]

TRASH FIORUCCI by Peter Nolan Smith

In the late-70s the windows of Fiorucci on East 60th Street featured the latest flash fashion from Italy. These trendy threads guaranteed almost immediate entrance into Studio 54 or any exclusive disco in Manhattan. The manager was a swishy part-time singer on the downtown scene. Joey ran the store with an iron glove. One afternoon […]

Joni Mitchell In Drag

I was born in 1952. During that prehistoric period doctors had no way of predicting an infant’s sex, yet my mother was so convinced that her second child would be a girl that a year’s worth of pretty pink baby clothing lay neatly stacked in a crib prior to my birth. I imagine she experienced […]

FLUTE THING By Peter Nolan Smith

In the Spring of 1969 I ran for president of the South Shore CYO Deanery. My older brother was the incumbent and my election was close to unanimous. Throughout the summer I met with the other officers at the CYO headquarters in Weymouth to plan out our event schedule for autumn, winter, and spring. While […]

A FINE DAY FOR SAILING by Peter Nolan Smith

My grandmother hailed from County Mayo in Ireland. Her last name was Walsh. Nana sailed to Boston at the age of fourteen. Most of the other passengers were cattle. “In the Year of the Crow,” she told her grandchildren in her lovely Gaelic accent. “When was that?” I was curious as to why she did […]