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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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Purple stuff
Since I started teaching I’ve undergone many changes. I still have a real honest to God chalk board in my classroom instead of the standard white board these days. The way I copy papers has changed significantly over the years. I started with the purple stuff. I would get so frustrated trying to type tests Read more
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Junebug’s Dinner
“I feel like my head’s in a jar underwater,” said Junebug to no one at all as she burnt the last of the fried chicken. She couldn’t fry chicken any better than she could make biscuits. Her gravy and mashed potatoes were to die for though. The whole stick of butter and heavy cream she Read more
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Haiku in Winter
The whittling down of a grandiloquent tale to seventeen syllables. Getting the juice from it to its purist form wrings the neck of a piece of writing so tight that all that’s left is the essence of its meaning, a haiku. Five seven five. The dear sweet poems of eternity. Pictures in pure form Whittled Read more
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The Fishing Village
Image generated with AI. I’ve never been to a fishing village in Scotland. I don’t care about cities and tourism. The small town misty cold draws me. I want to walk out on a rocky shore to hear the waves crash and redden my cheeks with cold as long as I can stand the grey Read more
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Story Published!
Thank you, Nolcha Fox and Chewers and Masticadores! Beatrice Entombed Millard watched the undertakers close the drawer that held Beatrice’s casket, and waited until everyone left the cemetery. A dusty brown cloud followed a parade of black limousines crawling their way up the side of a mountain to the main road. The last thing he Read more
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Predictable Rant
It’s time to get more aggressive about the life that I want. I’ve already decided what life I don’t want. I decided years ago that I wanted out of teaching. Retirement is within my reach. I called the retirement board and found that I was eligible for retirement six years ago, but it was financially 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
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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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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…
Devonne Brown 