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“Hell, Stan, there are too many for a list?” Stan shook his head no, and whistled low. Greg oozed frustration. “Were you ever sure about anything?” “ I swear we’re here.” Stan jumped up and dunked on Greg. Steve dunked on both of them, then got serious. “We’ll never get a list like this right,”
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“I know what “Azure” means, why wouldn’t I know what happiness and tranquility mean? Just because you’re my Papa doesn’t mean you’re smart or anything.”
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“You better have the coffee ready before you get me out of bed.”
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The finest pie I’ve ever made screams Christmas.
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He loved nothing more than a roomful of people drinking and smoking and giving him his undivided devotion and attention.
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At least there would be no school.
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Never start a novel with the weather.
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“Don’t tell your mom I let you see a Ouija Board. They’re not toys,”
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Garden Luncheon
Margaret took off her gardening gloves and surveyed her garden. The flowers were perfect. Never had her blooms been bigger or brighter than they were this summer. She took out her phone to take a picture. The blues, oranges, and reds were just phenomenal. She picked a blue one and took it into the house Read more
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Janet and Miranda Have Lunch
Artist unknown. “Everything on this menu must have at least ten thousand calories,” Miranda said as she picked up her Chardonnay. Janet thought by the looks of her, she could use ten thousand calories. She could get a salad or a steak anywhere. But they were in an exquisite Indian restaurant that served the best Read more
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Climbing the Rope
Image generated with AI. Emmy fumed. She’d been struggling to climb that rope for three weeks and still hadn’t made it two feet off the ground. Her face was red, her hands burned, her thighs chafed. She headed to the dreaded locker room to change, so she could hear more jeers from the cheer leaders Read more
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Relaxation Prison
One could call my home a relaxation prison. I don’t go anywhere or do anything of consequence to anyone but me. I plant and water flowers and watch them flourish along forest paths. I write in solitude. I prepare and eat my meals in solitude. I do everything alone. My warden, Norris, demands his cream. Read more
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“Hell, Stan, there are too many for a list?” Stan shook his head no, and whistled low. Greg oozed frustration. “Were you ever sure about anything?” “ I swear we’re here.” Stan jumped up and dunked on Greg. Steve dunked on both of them, then got serious. “We’ll never get a list like this right,”
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“I know what “Azure” means, why wouldn’t I know what happiness and tranquility mean? Just because you’re my Papa doesn’t mean you’re smart or anything.”
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“You better have the coffee ready before you get me out of bed.”
-
The finest pie I’ve ever made screams Christmas.
-
He loved nothing more than a roomful of people drinking and smoking and giving him his undivided devotion and attention.
-
At least there would be no school.
-
Never start a novel with the weather.
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“Don’t tell your mom I let you see a Ouija Board. They’re not toys,”
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Kinship
The artists couldn’t have been more different. One used a palette knife to sculpt landscapes of heaven. He caught the flickering glint of stars and swirling clouds of gas and light with oily pigments. He imprisoned the light and wonder of Orion, caught his bow in mid-aim. His kin captured the magnificence of the heavens…
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Ceraunophilia (n) loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful
“The lightning webbed and arced across the black sky. Thunder of a thousand sonic booms shook the whole house. It did it again and again and again. “I got it on my camera, look. It’s phenomenal. I bet it goes viral. “What do you think?” asked Sadie. “Look, here it comes again. James Weldon Johnson’s…
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Mommy’s Angel
I begged for a guitar for Christmas. I got down on my knees in supplication to Mom one Saturday morn when the snow was knee deep outside, I remember. That’s all she heard that year. I did every chore she gave me with glee, on the outside at least, three quarters my best instead of…
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Good King Wenceslas
“I love the way the full moon glistens on the snow when it’s deep and crisp and even like this, not a mark on it,” the good king said. It was St. Stephen’s Day, Boxing Day, the patron saint of stonemasons and bricklayers, the first martyr, stoned to death for blasphemy. He was also the…
Devonne Brown 