Rodere - to gnaw. The latin root for rodent. A blog for chewing on some of life's issues and also addressing the adventures of the small furry ones among us.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Halloween Story

For those who didn't see it in my newsletter, here is an old favorite Halloween story of mine. Happy Halloween!

Pull Cord for Nurse

(c) Noreen Braman



Emily hated working late. The turn-of-the-century hospital building that now housed her office was creepy enough during the day. After dark, building would creak and moan, making it easy to believe the stories about the former hospital - tales of experiments and mysterious deaths. The hospital staff had been absolutely fascinated with electric devices, haphazardly running wires to power all sorts of gadgets, including hundreds of little boxes with strings hanging from them, each one labeled "pull cord for nurse."

No one had bothered removing these boxes when the building was converted to offices. Every so often, a persistent ringing or buzzing coming from some distant room would require hours of work by the electrician to find the source and shut it down; blown fuses were common. Out of desperation, the office staff had become quite adept at pulling wires and changing the old glass fuses.

Tonight, Emily hoped she wouldn't have any electrical problems, she didn't feel like stumbling around in the dark utility closet to change a fuse. But around 9 PM, with only a little flicker as a warning, the lights went out. Emily sighed and reached into her desk drawer for the flashlight. Then, she headed down the hall toward the utility room, her footsteps echoing eerily in the empty building. Swinging the flashlight around, she searched the floor for the piece of wood they used to prop open the heavy metal door, then turned to open the fuse box. Suddenly, the door crashed shut behind her. She jumped and dropped the flashlight, which immediately went out. Frantically, she dropped to her hands and knees, feeling along the floor for the light, but she couldn't find it. Although she knew she had been alone in the building, she pounded on the door, screaming for someone to come open it. Terrified at the thought of being stuck in the utility closet all night, she ran her hands along the walls for anything that might help her get out. Behind some pipes, she felt the shape of a box with a string hanging from it. In desperation, she pulled the cord, and to her great surprise, there came the sound of a bell ringing somewhere deep in the recesses of the building. Emily yanked on the cord incessantly, hoping that someone would hear her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Emily heard footsteps in the hall, slow, shuffling steps that were coming closer. "I'm in here!" she shouted. "Come open the door!" She pounded on the utility room door as the slow footsteps became louder and louder. "Hurry!" she yelled, but the footsteps continued at their slow, shuffling pace.

Finally, they stopped, right outside the door. The old doorknob turned back and forth. Emily pushed on the door. It flew open and Emily fell headfirst out into the hallway. She sat up and rubbed her shoulder, and tried to see in the darkness who had rescued her.

"Thank you," she began, then gasped. Standing above her, glowing dimly in the dark, was someone half -human, half corpse, wearing the tattered remnants of a uniform and nurse's cap.

A skeletal hand reached toward Emily and a low raspy voice said "It's time for your medicine."

In the creature's other rotten hand was a hypodermic needle, filled with a glowing blue liquid. Emily screamed and tried to crawl away. A rancid hand fastened on her leg with a surprisingly strong grip. With her free leg she kicked at the glowing needle, knocking it from the nurse's hand. The nurse hissed furiously, and let go of Emily.

Emily scrambled to her feet and stumbled down the dark hall. Behind her, the nurse had picked up the needle and was shuffling toward her. "It's time for your medicine!" she wailed.

The old hospital building seemed to creak and groan in response. As Emily raced down the hallway, the doorknobs of each room she passed shook violently, and there was pounding on the doors as if someone was trying to get out. She looked behind her to see the nurse coming closer and closer, needle raised above her glowing skull. "It's time for your medicine!" she shrieked.

Emily careened down the hall, until she finally saw the outline of the front door. Outside, the lights of the parking lot glowed brightly. Emily swung open the door and ran out into the night.

Inside the hospital, the nurse watched Emily run away. Silence descended on the building as she shuffled back down the winding halls of the building. Slowly, she lowered her decaying body into the rusted chair at the forgotten nurse's station. She put the glowing needle back on the desk with the others, and folded her bony fingers in front of her on the desk. There would be other patients who needed her, and she would wait there as she was trained to do. Forever.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Self-Publishing: The Debate is Over

Self-Publishing: The Debate is Over

Friday, October 14, 2011

Treading Water Hits the Kindle Store

For those of you who have followed my blogs, my stint as LOL Editor and EWG Presents, my various published pieces scattered among magazines and anthologies - here is news for you! Now you can get all your favorite pieces together in one place in my new Kindle format book, Treading Water. If you are a new reader, Treading Water is a damp collection of essays and columns  from the Evil Pants series to The House orf Rhyming Pests and other tales of watery adventures, misbehaving dogs, careful plans gone awry and varmints of all kinds that don't give up!

use this link to order:

No Kindle? No problem! Download free reader software!

Wednesday, October 05, 2011

My response to Occupy Wall Street

Wednesday, September 07, 2011

Ten Years Later, the Scars of 9-11 Remain


The Day the Earth Stood Still

I remember stepping out of the shower
images on the television, a building engulfed in flames.
Thought it was coming attractions of “Collateral Damage”
a movie discussed earlier,
the screams of Katie Couric told me otherwise.
Wrapped in a towel, staring at the images, mind so filled with horror
no discernible words formed.
Dressing robotically,  confused as to what I was seeing
the second plane confirmed the intent.

I remember radio voices,
Scott and Todd, reporting what they were hearing
and seeing – voices choked with shock –
in Dr.Uray’s office – the nurses were weeping and trembling
all with children somewhere in the city.
We listened to Todd, or maybe it was Scott, wail in disbelief as the first tower
fell to earth, Dr. Uray corralled her staff – saying they must do their job in times of war, her face grave with past remembrance, her mouth set in a line of determination.

I remember calling the office to say I couldn’t possibly come in,
my boss Morgan said many were leaving anyway,
others sat silent in the conference room,
soundless except for whispered descriptions for those without sight,
of the unfolding  results of  incomprehensible acts.
Later would come the stories of Michael Hingson and his guide dog Roselle – escaping from the dust, debris and chaos, but that day, we saw nothing but death and destruction.

I remember going to my sister Theresa’s house
she hadn’t heard from her husband,  a supervisor at UPS, who often subbed for drivers on the World Trade Center Route.
The kids trickled home from school , we tried to shield the youngest, Robert,
Through many many anxious hours before his father walked in the door.

I remember going home to my house,
my daughter Annemarie and my son Roy Michael, on the deck
surrounded by football players and cheerleaders
silent and subdued they clung to each other powerlessly,
all knowing someone with someone in the city.
I worried about my oldest, on campus at Montclair University,
no phone calls would connect.
The greatest fear of a mother is to be separated from her children in a calamity or disaster. Without her home where I could see, her, touch her – was unbearable,  on a day where all was unbearable.

I remember from a high point in Monroe,
a place now covered with a gated community, 
we saw the smoke pluming miles into the sky
– a sky devoid of air traffic of any kind – creating a deafening silence the seemed to halt the Earth in its rotation, hold it motionless in orbit,  rendering us unable to draw a breath.

I remember night fell, but it was only darkness; sleep wrenched from it,  leaving only nightmares behind.

© 2011 Noreen Braman




Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Living on the Smile Side of Life - 4 week class in Monroe Township

Living on the Smile Side of Life - 4 wk class in Monroe Twp. Starts 9-13. For info see:

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Warren Buffet and me are peers!

After reading Warren Buffet's article yesterday about raising taxes on the rich - I thought wow, what a good idea. Today, I realize, just asking them to pay their fair share is enough. When Buffet indicated that he paid around $6,000 in taxes,  I realized that it isn't all that much more than I paid - and way less than the flogging I took from the IRS when I had to tap my 403B early (by ONE year) in order to keep out of foreclosure and bankruptcy after I was laid off in 2009. We working people who are not "too big to fail" are scrambling to stay afloat. How about a tax break for those forced to hit retirement funds because of job loss? How about a loophole for those who have to invest in home and car repairs?  But of course, I am being ridiculous. After all, it was Reagan who promised us that we would benefit from the "trickle down effect" of giving tax breaks to the rich.  And that trickle should start any day now.