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When I open my mouth, I’m shocked that I hear my mother. I hear her voice, her words, but more than that, her attitude. I hear her cadence in my speech and the philosophy I bucked as a child and an adult. She drove me crazy with her notions of what I should and should
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Mothers run a desperate zoo. That’s why we plant flowers. I have a flat and a half of red, fuschia, and orange impatiens on my back porch waiting to dot the ground with their hues. My mom planted flowers, her mom planted flowers, and that’s how she died, weeding her Touch-Me-Nots. Grounds beautification 101, we
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“In those days, in those distant days, in those ancient nights stories were told before there were things to tell stories about, Mom,” Sugar said over her shoulder as she walked out the door and slammed it. “I’m sick of your stories, you tell stories like all the damn time like I’m supposed to learn
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Falling no end in sightfrom heaven?to heaven?to Earth?to ocean?Where do we go when we drift across the skysomeone tell mesomeone sayI don’t want to be afraid to fallmaybe in love.
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Don’t know when I’ve been so very let downMy lips pressed tight right into a grimaceShould have known, didn’t want to show the frownFrustrated shake of the head, a red face.Tears, a bitter smile, a heavier sigh, I should have known better than to trust youSag against the wall, attempting to hideHands that hang, lifeless,
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House at Dusk, Edward Hopper I stumbled out of the mansion’s patio door, the band blared jazz, and I needed air, the whole house panted with people. My head was hot and my hair stuck to my neck from the prickly head, My ears rang from music, laughter, and the jumbled jargon of the rich
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I love to invoke the muses, the proper Pagan practice. The joyful noise of the Canadian Brass playing the Vespers of the Blessed Virgin or Rod Stewart singing Up on the Roof, either one can invoke Terpsichore, the muse of Music. She’ll then ramp up your event with energy, grace, and lots of class. The
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“Don’t tell Mom,” I said. “She’s pregnant.” he said right in front of Mom. He pointed to me. “He did that on purpose too. If he had kept his mouth shut you wouldn’t be here. Neither one of you would. Your dad saved your lives. You can give him credit for that.” If he had
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Nobody is watching
Nobody is watching. Read more
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Joys of Homeownership
“I know it’s not much, but I’ve been saving this for the apocalypse,” Traci dumped her bag on the dining room table. A ball of twine, a box of matches, a straight razor, scissors, a bottle of valium, and a loaded pistol. “This isn’t the apocalypse, the pipes are backed up. We have to call Read more
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Paris
Betty dreaded opening the package the mailman was about to deliver. She knew what it was when she watched him come up the street. She should just refuse to accept it, turn around and send it back right then. Return to sender. That would be the smart thing to do. She didn’t want to dredge Read more
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Ginger Tom
Geraldine didn’t appreciate that stray yellow cat that dropped her kitten at the front door. There it was though, eyes open, wobbly legged, barely weaned, and yellow as its mama. She thought of just sweeping it off the porch like trash. What else could it eat besides milk? Shit. She’d have to go to Walmart. Read more
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When I open my mouth, I’m shocked that I hear my mother. I hear her voice, her words, but more than that, her attitude. I hear her cadence in my speech and the philosophy I bucked as a child and an adult. She drove me crazy with her notions of what I should and should
-
Mothers run a desperate zoo. That’s why we plant flowers. I have a flat and a half of red, fuschia, and orange impatiens on my back porch waiting to dot the ground with their hues. My mom planted flowers, her mom planted flowers, and that’s how she died, weeding her Touch-Me-Nots. Grounds beautification 101, we
-
“In those days, in those distant days, in those ancient nights stories were told before there were things to tell stories about, Mom,” Sugar said over her shoulder as she walked out the door and slammed it. “I’m sick of your stories, you tell stories like all the damn time like I’m supposed to learn
-
Falling no end in sightfrom heaven?to heaven?to Earth?to ocean?Where do we go when we drift across the skysomeone tell mesomeone sayI don’t want to be afraid to fallmaybe in love.
-
Don’t know when I’ve been so very let downMy lips pressed tight right into a grimaceShould have known, didn’t want to show the frownFrustrated shake of the head, a red face.Tears, a bitter smile, a heavier sigh, I should have known better than to trust youSag against the wall, attempting to hideHands that hang, lifeless,
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House at Dusk, Edward Hopper I stumbled out of the mansion’s patio door, the band blared jazz, and I needed air, the whole house panted with people. My head was hot and my hair stuck to my neck from the prickly head, My ears rang from music, laughter, and the jumbled jargon of the rich
-
I love to invoke the muses, the proper Pagan practice. The joyful noise of the Canadian Brass playing the Vespers of the Blessed Virgin or Rod Stewart singing Up on the Roof, either one can invoke Terpsichore, the muse of Music. She’ll then ramp up your event with energy, grace, and lots of class. The
-
“Don’t tell Mom,” I said. “She’s pregnant.” he said right in front of Mom. He pointed to me. “He did that on purpose too. If he had kept his mouth shut you wouldn’t be here. Neither one of you would. Your dad saved your lives. You can give him credit for that.” If he had
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School Sense
“God almighty, Mr. Cooper’s room smells like disinfected death again. We’re either dissecting fetal pigs or cats,” said Beth. “My money’s on frogs,” said Tim, he paused, “Remember when Jasmine had that meltdown the time he surprised us with the cats?” Beth laughed. “I remember that day. The whole class was shocked. I wasn’t pleased,…
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Selling Cars
Celia made a decent living as the head sales person at the Mercedes dealership downtown. She’d just come from a dinner party at Jolene’s, her best friend from high school, where there were doctors, lawyers, and teachers in an exquisite home in the most elite neighborhood. Jolene had gone to college, earned a teaching degree,…
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Fugitive
Image generated with AI. As bad as I hated him, I was losing my mind with worry. I thought I would kill him when he got out at two in the morning and ran across the patio. Instead of stopping, like he usually did, he ran under the fence and disappeared into the night, really…
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Mom’s Gravy
Image generated with AI. The house smelled like breakfast. The sausage left a little grease in the pan, but it was pungent and spicy enough to make gravy. Mom added a little butter and the sweet nutty smell peppered the air, then she mixed in flour, enough to soak up the grease and butter to…

