Spencer Moseley

"If your cat ever harmed my daughter, I'd drown your cat," said Martha jokingly. *Context: Martha's 2-year-old daughter had been pulling Dana's cat's hair and trying to ride her like a horse until the cat hissed in frustration.* Dana leaned back in her chair. She put her left hand under her right armpit. After some time, she replied with no venom: "When I was little, my family had a big cat named Lila. She was a good cat. And she was blessed with long white hair. I had a habit of pulling on this hair with all my might when I was little, and usually, my dad was there to tell me to stop when Lila hissed at me. But one day, he wasn't. And I ignored Lila's hisses until she bit my hand. I screamed in agony, and my dad ran over from the backyard. As he bandaged my hand, he said, 'Well, that's what happens when we pull a cat's hair like that.'" "Well, I was just joking," said Martha.  "Very nice," said Dana.

I looked at my car. No, through my car. My car burglar had kept it classy (silver lining). Only small fragments of glass littered my backseat. When sunlight caught them just right, they did resemble those diamonds Snow White's dwarves worked so greedily to collect. Heigh-Ho. Heigh-ho. It's work from home I go. 😏 My buyer greeted me as I entered the backroom with a pleasure I didn't share. I had arrived early. Which meant she would expect me to help offload the truck. With a smile I hoped looked genuine, I performed at a level of insincerity that surprised even me: "It's great to see you; It's been too long; Good thing I'm here early to help." After that, I reflected that a simple "Hey, how's it going?" would have sufficed.  She talked in a frenzied flurry of ADHD. At one point, she even hit me with a "What the French Toast," which made me feel like I needed to brush spiders off my arms. I met her changing conversation topics wi...

Xuân Hưong might just be my new favorite soup spot. I ended up there like most sick people do, needing some hot, spicy soup to dissolve the phlegm. Okay that was gross.  I had two restaurant options. Lem's was right nextdoor and had higher reviews. But it had a chain feel. Bright neon lights out front. Special parking arrangements. And I began to sense that negative reviews for Xuân Hưong might be based on appearance. Xuân Hưong looked unassuming. One of the lights was knocked out. The building looked worn as if it was entirely made of drywall. But it looked homey. I trusted my gut and walked in. I waved at the waitress behind the counter and she grinned but looked down. Good. I like when they show respect but also have a bit of a "IDGAF" attitude. That's when you know the food will be good.  "I'd like to order to-go," I said.  "Menu?" she asked in broken English.  "Yes." I sat down with a spiral bound menu with four simple pages. App...

"I love. What I see. Of myself. In you." He stumbled through it just like that, sitting on the corner of his bed. Part of his plaid, very soft comforter was balled up in one hand.  She reached out and put her hand over his, which felt awfully mentorish. "I think you could do better than me though." He thought about saying, let me decide that . But it felt cliche and not unlike a therapist maxim. So he said nothing at all and watched as she slipped her bra on. He felt tears welling up and repressed the urge to run his index finger along her thigh vein. The one that popped well out of her pale skin.  He thought about trying to be grateful at least for the time they'd had together. The cliff jumping. The long walks in Galveston. That one time she'd popped a champagne bottle, scaring him, and how her drunk ass had offered sex to "make up for it".  But as he watched her putting her shoes on now he felt pissed. She'd wasted his time. But then he real...

          Three men bore gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to a stable beneath the Bethlehem sky. They knocked urgently. Mary, picture-perfect holding her baby, motioned to Joseph to let them in. The men smelled of camel’s hair, body odor and lentils. They wordlessly placed their gifts before the baby, murmuring words in their own tongue.  Mary thanked them with a smile, and they left in terror. Their gifts appeared like the gifts offered by the ancient Greeks to appease pagan gods. If these rich men were that scared, Joseph felt he should be too. “Let’s go,” he said to Mary. Her face said she needed more convincing. "I dreamed of this moment." She looked at him and, for once, complied. He strapped the saddle on the donkey as Mary nursed the boy. Joseph wanted to kill him, and he hated himself for feeling that way. He thought of Moses smacking bare rock with his magic staff in frustration. Relatable. He grunted at himself in disgus...

          Nicodemus snuck out of the portico of Solomon as twilight dimmed over the Galilean sea. He had a heavy foot and kept looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t heard or followed. His every step sounded thunderous to him. He found Jesus in a garden, smiling. His gait was carefree, and Nicodemus wondered at him.  “Hello, Nicodemus,” said Jesus, plucking a snow white lily. He had not turned to see Nicodemus, so Nicodemus wondered how he knew he was there. “Hi, Jesus,” said Nicodemus. His own voice sounded stupid to him.  Jesus sat on a rock, overlooking Jerusalem, and the filthy city looked pretty in torch light. Nicodemus perched nearby, an awkward ten feet away. Nicodemus had a question prepared and on his lips. He worked up the courage and stuttered through it, “Rabbi, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” “One must be born again to enter my kingdom,” said Jesus, turning to what seemed an automated reply. Had he had th...

“Lazarus, come out,” said Jesus, extending his arms toward the open tomb. The crowd, smelling of shit, stood there, waiting.  Lazarus emerged, covered in burial cloths blackened with blood and streaks of pus. The crowd gasped in amazement and started to dance. Songs rang out with shouts of, “Messiah, messiah.” “Why?” Lazarus wheezed, his voice barely audible through the burial cloths. “Lazarus,” said Jesus.  Something was wrong. Lazarus looked haggard.  “Fuck,” Lazarus screamed as he ripped off some of the cloth from his arm. Blood fell like rain as a scab reopened. Jesus remained calm but alert. The crowd behind them began to disappear as they went into Bethany to spread the news of Jesus’ miracle. “I’m sorry for your pain,” said Jesus. “You’re sorry?” Lazarus asked.  “Yes,” said Jesus. Lazarus let out a psychotic laugh.  “Why did you bring me back?” he asked.  Jesus paused and looked at him, “My father requested it.” “I was with Abraham in a place with no...

Well how long will you fuck her? said Jeff.  As long as she'll let me, I guess, I said. I almost said I suppose but knew I'd only be saying that to sound more sophisticated. More in control. I took another sip of Bulleit.  So that's that huh. I detected a hint of judgment and an unspoken request for a redeeming reason. I could've said that we did have chemistry or  who knows where this might go . But that didn't feel honest. Really. So instead I stood up to get the bottle for a refill. He tapped his cigar butt while looking down. Jeff was sophisticated. At least he liked to think so. He did use beard oil. I purposely poured his whiskey too quickly and enjoyed his panicked DUDE.  Truthfully I felt a little bad fucking someone just because they allowed it. She was a placeholder for someone I actually wanted. And fucking her anyway felt. Wrong. But I had made myself clear. I see us just as friends, I'd said. And she'd still agreed to keep fucking me. So maybe w...

I drank heavily at my karaoke bar of choice the other night: Bedrock Tavern. It should be called Ash Tray Tavern cuz that's how you'll smell after a thirty second visit.  It's quaint though. No one looks at you when you enter (could be cuz I'm white), but it's not hard to get a bartender's attention. I think a bartending requirement is a D cup.  I ordered my usual double Jack and Coke but forgot to tell them short. So it came in a 20 oz glass with mostly Coke. Whoops.  "You Tyler?" I asked the DJ hosting karaoke. "I'm Taylor." "Oh shoot man I'm so sorry," I over explained. "One day I'll get it." I asked him if he had "Cover Me Up". He said he did. I gave him my name timidly. He didn't react but I assumed he heard me and walked off.  I went and talked to a cute girl I'd met a couple visits before. She                                          ...

I walked into the darkish restaurant: Mian. My favorite Szechuan Chinese spot in Houston. A lovely lady asked me if I was dining in. I said yes and she said "sit wherever you would like".  I sat at one of those tables adjacent to a wall and faced the restaurant entrance (so I wouldn't be facing the other patron one table down from me). I pulled up the online menu on my phone and ordered like the hungry boss I was: Beef noodles, Pork dumplings, Brown Sugar Milk Tea. I had enough time to read my mediocre fantasy novel while I waited for the meal. They brought me this spicy cabbage and plum tea to start. Sorry Kimchi, but China does spicy cabbage better in my opinion. The smooth chopsticks took some getting used to but I managed.  The beef noodles came out next. The beautiful, very large bowl was brimming with red chili oil, chewy yellow-brown noodles, green onions, bok choy, and clumps of beef. The broth was the beefiest flavor. And though I ordered mild, it had quite a spi...

"El Kicheeee," I mumbled to myself. I like to do that in my car for some reason. I'd eaten at the Vietnamese spot next to it, so I was sure this place would be good too.  The Guatemalan Bakery/Restaurant was charming. On the left were the pastries you could snag and purchase at the register. And everywhere else there were booths or tables for restaurant dining. I wandered aimlessly until a lady asked me if I would like to eat. I said yes. She pointed at a table next to her and said I could sit there. I waited til she walked away and sat at a booth. I'm partial to booths. I waited about 15 minutes until a hottie asked me what I'd like to drink.  "Jamaica and a water please," I said. She was so hot but I maintained eye contact. I get proud of myself for things like that. She looked like she was studying me, which unnerved me a bit. But she broke into a partial smile and walked away.  I had reviewed the menu but didn't want to rush the system by asking ...

The arrow glanced off my sword and that was my first experience with battle. It glanced off and caught my friend in the neck. He didn't die but I felt fucking bad.  And then there was the pissing and vomiting and shitting that everyone talked about. I myself had prepped for this by forcing myself to vomit pre battle. My spear was very sharpened but my hands were shaking. I got lucky and didn't die for the first hour of battle because people around me had the wherewithal to remember their training and execute some of their training. Albeit poorly. My only special move involved thrusting my spear forward blindly and hoping I caught the enemy rather than my comrades. The enemy didn't wear any especially distinguishing armor from ours so I'm not sure who I killed. I can say I felt pretty awful about the whole thing.  I'm also not too sure if we fucking won the battle or not. Both sides sort of just scampered in different directions. I looted what petty change I could. I...

"He's all alone," said Zeus. Hera rolled her eyes. "No seriously," said Zeus. "Just look at him praying to us. He really thinks we are gonna help him." "You can't even find your lightning bolt," laughed Hera.  Aphrodite twirled her hair and spoke in that LA accent she'd acquired from that LA boy she was dating, "You guys are liiiike not even that funny low key. I'm gonna go showerrr." "You just showered five minutes ago," said Hermes. He tended to use his winged feet like roller blades on the clouds. "You smell great." "Are you fucking hitting on meeee?" asked Aphrodite.  "You wish." Hephaistos stopped drumming away on the sword he was crafting for a couple seconds. And went back to work.  "You almost done?" asked Poseidon. "I'd probably work better if you weren't hovering," Hephaistos fired back, wiping sweat from his brow. "As if that trident I ma...

The lady who often serves me at Jack in the Box on San Felipe was outside cleaning the drive thru menu frame. I thought of saying hi. Instead I just said my order and waited in line.  It wasn't til she greeted me at the drive thru window that I blurted out: "Wow you were just out there cleaning." What a stupid fucking thing to say. She adjusted her headset. "You would think we would have maintenance people for that but—" She had a slight accent and went back to work.  I waited. But not long. Jack in the Box is quick. "Would you like any salsa or ketchup?" "No thank you." She asks me that every time. Is she acting like she doesn't know me? No, Spencer, it's her job to ask that.  I took the brown paper bag and caramel iced coffee from her as quick as I could. Wouldn't want to hold up the drive thru line another two seconds. I pulled into the parking lot next to some trucks to get a view of Antone's Po Boys for no particular reas...

I ended my phone call with one of my best friends and walked into Pho Thanh Long. I'd felt guilty for placing my online food order during our phone call, but I was still happy with the order: Banh Mi, Thai Tea, Spring rolls.  I noticed someone in the restaurant looked familiar, but I couldn't remember her name. It would only be halfway through fighting a spicy jalapeno that I'd remember I worked with her pretty closely for two years a couple jobs ago. Whoops. "Did you order—?" The cashier with a buzzed head and portly stature got distracted by nothing before returning to his question. "A Vietnamese sandwiiiich and uhh." "Thai tea," I offered. "Yes," he said, curtly, not liking that I'd offered, apparently. He handed me the food wrapped in a Walmart bag (the best food is poorly wrapped) with the signature pinkie wide straw jutting out the side that I'd soon jam through the tea's sealing film. No turtles saved today. I ate t...

A handsome man with jet black hair and jet black stubble spoke with an even more handsome middle eastern accent.  "Can I help you sir?" Why yes you can. Spencer, talk normal.  Cough. Cough. "Yes, could I get—"  I realized I hadn't looked at the menu and fought through the awkward pause I needed to make up my mind.  "Could I get a beef shawarma?" "Yes sir," he said calmly, as if my awkward pause hadn't existed. Another pause ensued where I tried to figure out how to pay. I prefer the credit card tap. But the thingy didn't have a tap thing. So I inserted. "Would you like your receipt?" he asked. "No thank you," I said and sat down. I scrolled to not look like a psycho staring at him. I looked briefly around the restaurant that doubled as backstock: empty cardboard boxes, upside down chairs and step stools smooshed into the far end of the room. "Here you go," he said, offering his first half smile. Not that ...

The thin wooden chopsticks felt light and smooth. They were hard to manage with my unpracticed fingers. I grabbed a spoon to compensate. One of those plastic short spoons with a large, squarish bottomed sipping bowl, and a little lip for my index finger to rest under. I tossed in a handful of bean sprouts, cilantro and basil. Squeezed that quarter lime. Stirred the thin noodles together with the brisket and sockeye steak. Took my first sip. Meh. It was okay. Didn't blow my mind (the brisket kinda blew my mind). But I knew that going into this. That's just how pho is.  Pho is the mother of the food world. Nurturing. But tells it to you straight. "Here's the vegetables you need. You'll feel great while you run on this. But you'll just feel meh while you slurp it down." It's not a McDonald's cheeseburger that'll send your tastebuds to the moon. And then leave you high and dry and ready for a nap. McDonald's is the whore of the food world.  I j...

Gandolf yanked his penis out of Frado with alarming speed for his age. Frado, shot his own load with heavy breaths and drool running down to his hairy feet.  "Gandolf!" Frado pulled the ring from his penis. "Yes, my boy. It's good to see you again." (Gandolf preferred Frado invisible so he could fantasize about Goladriel, too). And Gandolf let out a hearty laugh and gave Frado's butt a whack with his staff.  Som, Marry and Pappin clapped and Boramir groaned as he had nothing left to jerking off to. Aragarn gave his little chuckle reserved for only the funniest of moments. Arwan tugged Aragarn's penis too, just so slightly. But it was enough to get him to a half chub.  "So what's for dinner?" asked Gamli. He wore his dwarven helm and nothing else, hoping Eawyn would glance his way (to no avail).  "Oh I'm sure I'll think of something," said Gandolf, shimmying into his cloak and conjuring a loaf of lembas bread with magic. ...

I'm anxious. I'll hear my heart racing over the slightest thing. Is that not okay? No. I want to feel at peace. But what if what being peaceful all the time isn't you? What if being anxious makes you who you are? And what if that's okay to carry with you? What if it's not a problem to solve but a condition of life to embrace? And look at what it gives you. What does it give me? Empathy. You can feel all the threads of emotion in a room. It's a superpower of sensitivity to a room's vibrations that not everyone has. And you can move with it. You can feel those vibrations and still decide on what's best for you, even if you know it'll disturb that peace. Even if you know it'll make people uncomfortable. I don't much like this. Like others seems so peaceful and okay with things. Seem. They're all faking? A lot of them are. Or they're on drugs. How many people do you really know who just don't give a fuck? Not many. And usually they...

I struggled to swallow the flavorless, dry bread. We were 7 hrs into our flight to Korea, and I couldn't adjust my seat in any way that would ease the burning pain in my lower back. A thought crossed my mind that I whispered to James: "What if I asked for 5 more things of butter. And then the stewardess comes over and sees us completely coating the bread in butter." "And then we just start shoving it up our asses," said James. We both burst out laughing. We had watched three movies already ( Cocaine Bear being the best), but it was time for Renfield . We looked around and saw three people watching The Lord of the Rings .  "We can watch that on the way back," said James. I nodded. We drifted in and out of sleep until the plane "landed": literally fishtailing until it came to a halt. "How did no one scream?" I asked.  "Good question. This pilot's drunk." We were in Korea. We de-boarded and entered a quiet, carpeted airp...