Puppy Archives - E.B. Bartels

“How Reading True Crime Stories Helps Us Face Our Own Fears” on Catapult!

E.B. Bartels — Thu, 09 Aug 2018 14:29:51 +0000

For the full piece, see it on Catapult.
Published on August 9, 2018.

—

In general, having an essay on Catapult is a dream come true, but I am especially excited to share this piece about my inherited anxiety and love of true crime. Shout out to my grandfather, who does not read my blog or use the Internet! Thanks, Puppy, for passing on both your obsessive worrying and your passion for dark and depressing reading material!

The post “How Reading True Crime Stories Helps Us Face Our Own Fears” on Catapult! appeared first on E.B. Bartels.

Haiku for a Dog I Don’t Know, Japan Edition

E.B. Bartels — Wed, 26 Apr 2017 02:58:26 +0000

Fushimi Inari-taisha, Kyoto

Three, wrapped in bags, rest —
while their family hikes through ten
thousand torii.

———-

Sannomiya, Kobe

The tiniest pups
for sale! Too bad they cost three
hundred-thousand yen.

That’s like $3,000. Dogs are criminally expensive in Japan.

———-

Takeshita Dori, Harajuku, Tokyo

In Harajuku
everyone is so trendy,
even dogs wear shades.

They’re not regular dogs, they’re cool dogs.

The post Haiku for a Dog I Don’t Know, Japan Edition appeared first on E.B. Bartels.

Claustrophobia

E.B. Bartels — Thu, 10 Sep 2015 01:30:50 +0000

I’m extremely excited to announce that I have a short nonfiction piece––”Claustrophobia”––in volume IV of the small, Boston-area-based zine/magazine Infinite Scroll. The theme of the issue is TIME & MONEY.

To read the full piece, buy a copy of Infinite Scroll, either online or at Magpie in Davis Square.

Below you’ll find a preview.

—

In the summer, the office gets hot. The large picture windows let in scorching light, and when the air conditioner is off, I’m a goldfish in a bowl in direct sun. When the air conditioner is on, however, I’m in a Siberian blizzard, and the high school summers that I worked at Andersen Insurance––my family’s business––my desk was in line with the blower. I suffered equally from wind-chill and heat stroke. The ancient motor of the air conditioner was deafening: a plane taking off in a hurricane with all the passengers screaming.

“What, pal?” My grandfather, Puppy, shouted over the roar.

“I’m almost done with filing!”

“What?”

“I said: I’m – ”

“Wait a minute, pal.” Puppy reached up to the window, using a long wooden stick to power off the air conditioner.

Silence followed, except for ringing in my ears and a sigh from Donna, the office’s longest-running non-familial employee.

“I said: I’m almost done with filing,” I repeated, already feeling heat from the windows.

The post Claustrophobia appeared first on E.B. Bartels.