-
Local Pizza I’m lucky. I live in small town West Virginia and a half a mile from a glorious, honest to God Italian pizza parlor, Larobi’s Pizza. The only Italian place this side of Ona that’s not a chain. Larobi’s takes cash and they don’t deliver. Their dining room is almost as good as their…
-
If I’m alive… In twenty years, If I’m still alive I hope to hell I finally graduated from school. Kids have always liked me, not the other way round. This is the last twenty. Fix it. Admit it, I’m sick of kids. I’ll publish the definitive legend of how the Scottish play got its curse…
-
“Out, out brief candle,” I said. “Shakespeare is so antiquated. They’re taking him out of the schools now. He’s irrelevant,” said Nick. My son was six. “Can you tell a story in a thousand words or less in iambic pentameter? I didn’t think so.” “Just tell me a bedtime story,” he said. “It was a…
-
Adult Children A nurse in the doctor’s office ran me out of the room when the twins got their vaccinations to start school. They started crying the minute Dr. Brick said, “You know I would never do anything that would hurt without telling you.” They got five shots. Two in one leg, three in the…
-
When Mom died, I became keeper of the jewelry box. I dole out the contents to the various family members before I die. It’s not the standard little white padded jewelry box with the little gold lock and filigree. It’s the Chrysler Building of all jewelry boxes. Its contents are extraordinary. The most valuable commercial…
-
Famous Diner I didn’t think Shakespeare would show up for dinner, not the real one anyway. He’d been dead for four hundred and six years. My research for a novel featuring the bard had me making a basic English roast dinner, including a bad Yorkshire pudding. Those things are tricky. When I make them, they…
-
“It’s jacked up. Nobody consulted me about a standard damned poodle coming into this house. Life was just fine. It’s jacked up as shit,” said Norris. He stomped in a circle and thumped his tail before he could compose himself to continue. He was too damned mad. Norris was without words. “This had better not…
-
The Last Sunday of Summer Today is the last Sunday of summer. I go back to school tomorrow. A whole new ride starts. I didn’t think about it until yesterday. God, I hate giving up summer. I became a writer this summer. Being a writer gives you permission to stay home and write. In fact,…
-
All gardens need a boy.
-
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
-
Local Pizza I’m lucky. I live in small town West Virginia and a half a mile from a glorious, honest to God Italian pizza parlor, Larobi’s Pizza. The only Italian place this side of Ona that’s not a chain. Larobi’s takes cash and they don’t deliver. Their dining room is almost as good as their…
-
If I’m alive… In twenty years, If I’m still alive I hope to hell I finally graduated from school. Kids have always liked me, not the other way round. This is the last twenty. Fix it. Admit it, I’m sick of kids. I’ll publish the definitive legend of how the Scottish play got its curse…
-
“Out, out brief candle,” I said. “Shakespeare is so antiquated. They’re taking him out of the schools now. He’s irrelevant,” said Nick. My son was six. “Can you tell a story in a thousand words or less in iambic pentameter? I didn’t think so.” “Just tell me a bedtime story,” he said. “It was a…
-
Adult Children A nurse in the doctor’s office ran me out of the room when the twins got their vaccinations to start school. They started crying the minute Dr. Brick said, “You know I would never do anything that would hurt without telling you.” They got five shots. Two in one leg, three in the…
-
When Mom died, I became keeper of the jewelry box. I dole out the contents to the various family members before I die. It’s not the standard little white padded jewelry box with the little gold lock and filigree. It’s the Chrysler Building of all jewelry boxes. Its contents are extraordinary. The most valuable commercial…
-
Famous Diner I didn’t think Shakespeare would show up for dinner, not the real one anyway. He’d been dead for four hundred and six years. My research for a novel featuring the bard had me making a basic English roast dinner, including a bad Yorkshire pudding. Those things are tricky. When I make them, they…
-
“It’s jacked up. Nobody consulted me about a standard damned poodle coming into this house. Life was just fine. It’s jacked up as shit,” said Norris. He stomped in a circle and thumped his tail before he could compose himself to continue. He was too damned mad. Norris was without words. “This had better not…
-
The Last Sunday of Summer Today is the last Sunday of summer. I go back to school tomorrow. A whole new ride starts. I didn’t think about it until yesterday. God, I hate giving up summer. I became a writer this summer. Being a writer gives you permission to stay home and write. In fact,…
-
All gardens need a boy.
-
On Writing; Inspired by Erma Bombeck
“I’ve taken my typewriter to the hospital with me for kidney infections. I have taken it on camping trips, and the sand has gotten in the keys. It is just like the most fierce habit you can imagine. It is there, and it stares at you like a conscience.” ~ Erma Bombeck I must write.…
-
The Mystery in the Cook Book
I pulled the book off the shelves that looked most promising for a real recipe for rough puff pastry. The Great British Baking Show offered more inspiration than information, and Wolfgang Puck’s book looked more promising than most on the St. Albans library shelves. The book held that exquisite new book smell to it, and…
-
Teachers’ Kids
“Out, out brief candle,” I said. “Shakespeare is so antiquated. They’re taking him out of the schools now. He’s irrelevant,” said Nick. My son was six. “Can you tell a story in a thousand words or less in iambic pentameter? I didn’t think so.” “Just tell me a bedtime story,” he said. “It was a…
-
Black Licorice
“Which house shall we hit next, the brick one or that long white one with just the porch light on?” The Bunny Sisters collaborated. Trick or Treat was a serious matter. It had to be done in the most efficient and interesting of ways. Their costumes were fashioned of dresses from the thirties and their…
-
An Unlikely Account of Lincoln’s Tophat
Not many people knew of Mercucio Sibedow, haberdasher to the presidency. Mercucio grew up south of the Mason Dixon line. He learned from his daddy how to make hats and ties, leather gloves, fashion mens finishing touches. You’d think that finishing touches were woman’s work, but that would be absolutely not true. In the world…
Devonne Brown 