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Dirty Snow
“Mom, where are the boots you got me for Christmas?” asked Charlie. He tore the living room upside down looking for them. Couch cushions went flying, followed by blankets, and newspapers, he made an unholy mess. “Stop it! Stop throwing stuff around and straighten this room up right now,” Alice was livid. “You know better… Read more
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Sewing Lesson
Santa brought me a baby doll for Christmas one year that had white curly hair like an old lady. She had a rubber head and blue eyes that would open and close when she sat up and lay down. Her arms and legs were rubber too, attached to a stuffed body. She was about half… 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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Knives or Feathers
“ ‘Whatever,’ is the wrong answer,” I said to myself, to the boys, to the cat, to the dog. Be specific in your choices. You only get to make this one once. Make it a happy one, always. Consequences come at you with knives or feathers. I much prefer feathers, the soft parts anyway. Everything…
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I Giggle at the Wrong Things
What makes me giggle? I giggle when I get attention I don’t understand. I feel too exposed, and I don’t like the word “vulnerable.” I’ve worked too hard not to be. I need to giggle more. It’s supposed to be good for you. I’ve heard it burns calories better than exercise. Some folks are born…
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Poor Ophelia
Poor Ophelia. Honor the birds that sing for you Listen for their songs Delight in their music If you can If you can Damn you, Hamlet, the twin that didn’t live ruined everything. Daddy won’t ever be right again. And there’s no room for you, is there, little girl? Mad’s triple talk. Are you out…
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Grown Up
The first time I ever felt like a grown up was on the Monday before the surgeon told me the boys were coming Wednesday at 9:00 a.m. “Not to worry,” said the husband, “our lifestyle won’t change much.” The baby beds hadn’t been bought, the nursery hadn’t been painted. He said he’d see to that. …
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Being Prompt
Being Prompt “You’re early,” “You were here first, and it doesn’t start for another hour,” said AJ. “So, what are you doing here now? Everything’s been done. They’ve got people for everything,” “I like to fine tune the space’s vibe. Play some music maybe, get the ambiance going in the right direction. Tune the energy…
Devonne Brown 