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…breathe deeply and often…

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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… 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

    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

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  • Famous Diner

    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…

  • Intro…

    “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

    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,…

  • Funding

    “Thank you, Ms. Parsons.” I handed the officer my drivers’ license and registration as the window rolled down. I swear I came to a full stop at the stop sign. He read my name from the license and smiled at me. I wondered if he thought I looked like a criminal. My black car was…

  • Garden Success

    All gardens need a boy.