athesaurus.com

…breathe deeply and often…

  • The Tree

    Once upon a time, I felt like I was separate from everyone else, standing off to the side by myself. I felt ugly and freakish. I just didn’t feel like I was in the forest with the rest of the trees. I felt like a different species that had been planted in the yard as…

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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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  • Jung Smung

    Jung says, “No matter what the world thinks about religious experience, the one who has it possesses a great treasure, a thing that has for him become a source of life, meaning and beauty, and that has given a new splendor to the world.” I’ve experienced many denominations of religious faith in my life. The…

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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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  • 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…

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  • Gilly and the Peashooters

    “Gilly and the Peashooters” was first published in Appalachian Fusion, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Contemporary Appalachian Writing, Vol 27

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  •   Creation sans fear

    I  don’t have to practice transcendental meditation to create masterworks, maybe I do.

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  • Memory is the Truth Glorified Dad buffed his shoes, he wouldn’t look at us. “It wasn’t like that. We didn’t have big Christmases when you all were little.” “What do you mean? Presents covered the whole living room. There were dolls with dresses. We both got Chatty Cathys that matched our hair. We got high…

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  • My Angels

    On Monday, my twin premature babies will be twenty-six. I shake my head in disbelief. “We were angels before we were born, and we were sent to your tummy for our wings to grow off so we could take care of you.” Big silver two year old eyes looked up at me. He was speaking…

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  • Two Hour Delay Day

    At least we don’t have hurricanes. Read more

  • Portsmouth

    I need to go back to Portsmouth, UK to where my boys were born. I’d like to visit my neighbors, and hang with them a day or two. We’re good friends and good company. You don’t find that often enough these days.  I’d like to take the boys with me too. We could walk along… Read more

  • But I don’t want to

    “Are you still working? Why don’t you retire?” Everybody wanted  to know because of the silver hair and wrinkles.  Fred asked at the wrong time. Janice was tired and not in the mood. He thought women were silly. He retired early five years ago.  “Why? Do you need someone to take care of you?” Janice… Read more

  • Learning

    I’m too tired to argue and fuss about mess today. Read more

  • Elvis and the Baltic Sea

    Drat, dammit, and O hell, my plans to go to the Baltic Sea for vacation had fallen through. I was at the pinnacle of despair, flustered to the very bone. It was the coffee klatches fault.  Susan’s husband had put his foot down, he said flat out “No.” He wasn’t about to let her go.… Read more

  • Test Day

    It’s the little things that make mountains. Kaiden didn’t want to wear his headphones even though they were a requirement for the test. “I know how to read, why do I have to do this?” He was in the sixth grade, and his third grade reading scores indicated that headphones would be more helpful than… Read more

  • The Tree

    Once upon a time, I felt like I was separate from everyone else, standing off to the side by myself. I felt ugly and freakish. I just didn’t feel like I was in the forest with the rest of the trees. I felt like a different species that had been planted in the yard as…

    Read more

  • 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…

    Read more

  • Jung Smung

    Jung says, “No matter what the world thinks about religious experience, the one who has it possesses a great treasure, a thing that has for him become a source of life, meaning and beauty, and that has given a new splendor to the world.” I’ve experienced many denominations of religious faith in my life. The…

    Read more

  • “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…

    Read more

  • 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…

    Read more

  • 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…

    Read more

  • Gilly and the Peashooters

    “Gilly and the Peashooters” was first published in Appalachian Fusion, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Contemporary Appalachian Writing, Vol 27

    Read more

  •   Creation sans fear

    I  don’t have to practice transcendental meditation to create masterworks, maybe I do.

    Read more

  • Memory is the Truth Glorified Dad buffed his shoes, he wouldn’t look at us. “It wasn’t like that. We didn’t have big Christmases when you all were little.” “What do you mean? Presents covered the whole living room. There were dolls with dresses. We both got Chatty Cathys that matched our hair. We got high…

    Read more

  • My Angels

    On Monday, my twin premature babies will be twenty-six. I shake my head in disbelief. “We were angels before we were born, and we were sent to your tummy for our wings to grow off so we could take care of you.” Big silver two year old eyes looked up at me. He was speaking…

    Read more

  • 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…

  • 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…

  • 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…

  • 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…

  • 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…