where the writers are

Mark Gillispie's Writings

Sterling knocked on the door of his father's room at the nursing home and stuck his head in far enough to see that the old man was on the toilet, which meant he’d likely be there awhile. Sterling never wanted to be old. The expected wait further darkened a sour mood spun from a bad day in a crappier month and an even more wretched year. Doom had been tumbling...
Short Story
For the first time in memory, Doris ate her cake slowly, enjoying each bite along with sips of black coffee from the annoying plastic mug. The cups had bothered her from the first time they had wheeled her into the dining room of the nursing home. Doris wanted a proper ceramic cup from which to drink her tea or coffee. Instead, they made drink from those pink...
  A year ago today, I embarked on an adventure that I do not want to repeat. On Jan. 16, 2012, I began treatment for lung cancer. Over the next four months, doctors dosed me with toxic drugs, zapped me with millions of volts of electricity, carved into my left leg and turned me into a pile of sickly goo. They also got rid of the quarter-sized tumor in the...