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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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Norris Tales…
Norris Tales, The Adventures of an Awful House Cat . I like to call Norris Tales hyperbolic nonfiction. Norris has superpowers of good and evil. Norris, the actual cat, is sixteen years old. He’s become that friend you argue with all the time. He’s demanding. He wants cream, or attention, or no attention. He doesn’t…
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Work it, Sandy
Work it, Sandy. Downpours aren’t kind. Just as predicted, water soaks right through that magazine on your head. Independence means you make the choice to run from here to the door in the rain whether your mom says you can or not. You still get wet. It’s part of life’s journey. The big stuff, you…
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Holiday Head Webs
Holiday Head Webs I declare my independence from the tyranny of head webs, stuff that wakes me…dumb stuff. There have been a bazillion books written about incidents and accidents that leave deep wounds that still bleed. I was supposed to watch my brother at my sister’s cheerleader practice. He was two, I was ten, she…
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The Road
The Road Haunt yourself. What does the sky hunt when it is the color of the red tailed hawk? Hope caught in the clouds and turned to dust, drifting Freedom and loneliness balance between the ground and glory. No footprints on the planks to paradise.
Devonne Brown 