Michael Ramsburg
Bio
Writer. Essays, creative nonfiction, poetry and more. Thanks for reading, liking and subscribing!
Stories (4)
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Buckwheat Pancakes, Biscuits, and Our Hippocampus
I come from a family of eaters. Not the typical you-need-to-eat-for-sustenance variety of eaters, though sustenance — "Did you get enough? Eat more, or you'll be hungry later!" — was always reason enough to eat. My family is more of the eat-to-celebrate-your-very-existence variety. We'll eat for any occasion, large and small, or no occasion at all.
By Michael Ramsburg4 years ago in Feast
Red Rover
1. Fourth grade. Playground. You’re not in my class, but I know you. You: Fire-engine red hair, stereotypical attitude, tomboy looks, no-cares personality. Me: Shy, nerdy, lanky and somewhat indifferent. We’re choosing teams. You’re the captain of the first. “I want him,” you say, your finger pointed like the barrel of a pistol in my direction. I walk over, take your hand. We form two lines, each team facing the other. “Red Rover, Red Rover…” The popular kid is dared over. I feel your sweaty palm; your thick nails grind into my skin. We brace for impact. His bony legs speed in our direction. I close my eyes. Then: his torso on my forearm. Your tight grip clutches tighter. His body bounces back. He doesn’t make it through. “That’s how it’s done!” you exclaim, your face full of pride. I let out an audible sigh of relief. On the inside, I feel delight.
By Michael Ramsburg4 years ago in Humans
