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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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“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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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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“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…
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“Gilly and the Peashooters” was first published in Appalachian Fusion, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Contemporary Appalachian Writing, Vol 27
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I don’t have to practice transcendental meditation to create masterworks, maybe I do.
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When the Ship Lifts
Artwork by Charles Jupiter Hamilton It took a long time to get here, to this place of the ordinary. What had to be figured out was what was commonplace. What could be tolerated, what she wanted to confront. She learned to pick the battles. Some fell away, some had to be fought. Some she lost,… Read more
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When Life Gets Weird
All women in their time play all the parts. When time’s struggle hacks away at the core of motherhood, she blooms Slices of her incognito souls fall around her. She’s protected her child with her promises Surefooted he stands on her love and covers his head, With the hat of awareness. The recognition that Her… Read more
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Mona
Like most things, Mona ignored the timer, and kept reading her book. She was approaching the climax of a scene, she needed to see the outcome of the turning point, wanted to watch the table turn, she couldn’t put the pages down just yet. Nothing was on fire. She read on. Of course the protagonist… Read more
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Luxuries of Life
Time, health, a calm mind, slow mornings, the ability to travel, a home I love, and close relationships, is there more to life that I could need? How much time is granted to me? How much time do I need? Is it enough? I think so. I believe it will be enough to show the… Read more
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My Greatest Gift
Are you sure you’re right?You can’t be having twinsGreatest Christmas gift Read more
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Boon to the living
Photo by Douglas John Imbrogno “I’ve survived one hundred percent of the days that were just God-awful. I am happy to be alive on good days. I do wonder about what’s next though. Next. What’s coming? I’ve got a lot coming on my plate. I have many choices to make, much to be careful of,… Read more
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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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“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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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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“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…
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“Gilly and the Peashooters” was first published in Appalachian Fusion, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Contemporary Appalachian Writing, Vol 27
-
I don’t have to practice transcendental meditation to create masterworks, maybe I do.
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Wet Produce
Image generated with AI. Grocery shopping is a necessary evil. I don’t like shopping in the first place, and spending an exorbitant amount of money on sustenance seems like a sin. Life is so expensive, it doesn’t need to be so annoying to get the things I need and want. Ordering groceries online for pickup…
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Word Wednesday: Whalesong from “chord, note, Baltic, crowd, bronze, odor”
AI generated image. “I never thought I’d be standing on the deck of a cruise ship in the middle of the Baltic sea listening to whale songs, The notes and chords from their throats are stuff I only dreamed about,” Madeline watched the fog move over the waves. The famous clicks and moans of the…
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Hateful Liberation
Mom and Dad were the loves of each other’s lives. They found each other during summers when Mom went to Clay county to visit her grandparents. Their love for each other never changed. Even after they divorced thirty-two years later after dad met and had an affair with CH, the most despicable woman I’d ever…
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The Trap
A groundhog attacked the lily in the flower bed in the front of the house. For three years the lily had grown to the size of a bushel basket and was covered in buds. The varmint didn’t eat the leaves. Oh no. It waited until the buds were ripe and ready to burst into the…
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Tincher’s Store
AI generated image. Tincher’s Store and Post Office was the train station once. It stood not a hundred feet from the railroad tracks, and its wide wooden porch doubled as a bus stop in the pouring rain. We had no idea how long ago it stopped being a train station, it was half a mile…
Devonne Brown 