athesaurus.com

…breathe deeply and often…

  • Climbing the Rope

    Image generated with AI. Emmy fumed. She’d been struggling to climb that rope for three weeks and still hadn’t made it two feet off the ground. Her face was red, her hands burned, her thighs chafed. She headed to the dreaded locker room to change, so she could hear more jeers from the cheer leaders…

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  • The Odd

    Sometimes, the odd is a catalyst for transcendence. Incessant noise and chatter become too much in everyday life and I want to lash out and run into a meadow of wildflowers and ferns, seek shelter in an old shed and call it a day. Call it a life.  The closer I get to reality, the…

    Read more

  • Relaxation Prison

    One could call my home a relaxation prison. I don’t go anywhere or do anything of consequence to anyone but me. I plant and water flowers and watch them flourish along forest paths. I write in solitude. I prepare and eat my meals in solitude. I do everything alone. My warden, Norris, demands his cream.…

    Read more

  • Hurricane

    My heart will always be in the green of Appalachian small towns. The first house I remember was a one room school house converted into a four room house with a porch, and an outhouse out back. I have a picture of my sister and I playing in its backyard in front of the outhouse…

    Read more

  • In the midnight hour, when no one else is around or listening, the story I tell myself is that I didn’t fall off the turnip train yesterday. That the voice of Linda Ronstadt still rings true in my heart and head. I’m still the woman I was forty years ago even though I have silver…

    Read more

  • Long ago

    I’m still not used to the Fourth of July without the indignity of the sumptuous feasts my mother concocted on her birthday. They had everything but bursting fireworks against the black sky. They weren’t necessary for her celebrations. Everyone was too tired for them by dark anyway. The family would have had to replenish its…

    Read more

  • Lasagne Night

    “Do you remember when we had dinner in that old house in the woods on the farm?” Ruby asked as she took the pan of lasagne out of the oven.  Alan smiled. “Yeah, you wore your prom dress and I wore my sport coat. Mom made lasagne for us. We took it to that little…

    Read more

  • Image generated with AI Being home in my forest among my flowers allows me to be me. The old people said “tending violets cures melancholy.” There’s something about digging in dirt to plant my begonias and impatiens that does the same thing. It restores my soul from working all fall and winter. Every morning of…

    Read more

  • Goulash

    Image generated with AI. “I’m making goulash for dinner tonight. I’m going to use Mom’s recipe too.” said Janice. Mason hoped she remembered the recipe. Sometimes her memory of her Mom’s dishes were sketchy and turned out awful like the soup. He was skeptical of this goulash stuff. It had a weird name to it…

    Read more

  • Rainbow Tornado

    Photographer unknown “Look up there, Frank, what is that?” asked Bessie. “Is it the end of times?” “O shit, Bessie, it ain’t the end of times, that’s a rainbow tornado. The old people said those things were good luck. Instead of sucking everything up, it’s raining down good energy.” “You mean like letting Leprechauns loose…

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  • The Ugly Step Sister

    Ella’s job was to clean the ashes, cook, and sew. Mine was to embroidery and be on the lookout for a husband. I wasn’t supposed to go near the hens and chickens, but I was supposed to sit a horse and ride with the wind in my hair. I couldn’t even climb upon the beast.… Read more

  • This Thanksgiving Dinner

    I don’t care for turkey, besides, it’s heavy and hard to handle. This year, because I’m not paying two hundred dollars for beef, I’m making pork tenderloin Wellington and smoked turkey leg Wellington experiments. If they go well, I’ll do them again for Christmas. I have one boy home for Thanksgiving, so he’ll be my… Read more

  • Eutony

    Eutony: n. The pleasantness of a word’s sound.Your words arethe sound of kindness.The quiet of falling leavesflutter and whirl,Orange and red ride the wind and glide to the ground.They have the shove of love behind each one.bright yellow wingedyet crimson when passed under the shade of the othereach one part of your poem.The sound you… Read more

  • When Life Gets Weird

    I defer to Shakespeare again.All women in their time play all the parts.When time’s struggle hacks away at the core of motherhood, she bloomsSlices of her incognito souls fall around her.She’s protected her child with her promises Surefooted he stands on her love and covers his head, With the hat of awareness.The recognition thatHer powerful… Read more

  • Cindora

    “What was wrong with the last gentleman caller? He was taller than you and wore a suit of the finest cut. He didn;t even grease his hair like you said you hated.” Cindora’s father, Mr. Weston poured another bourbon in disgust and slumped in his chair. His daughter made him want to pull hanks of… Read more

  • The Haunted School

    One morning my classroom was unlocked and its door was open, the doorstop jammed tight to hold it open. Everyone else’s in the Penthouse, that’s what we called the third floor of West Side Middle School, was propped open too. It was weird because I always arrived an hour earlier than everyone else and their… Read more

  • Climbing the Rope

    Image generated with AI. Emmy fumed. She’d been struggling to climb that rope for three weeks and still hadn’t made it two feet off the ground. Her face was red, her hands burned, her thighs chafed. She headed to the dreaded locker room to change, so she could hear more jeers from the cheer leaders…

    Read more

  • The Odd

    Sometimes, the odd is a catalyst for transcendence. Incessant noise and chatter become too much in everyday life and I want to lash out and run into a meadow of wildflowers and ferns, seek shelter in an old shed and call it a day. Call it a life.  The closer I get to reality, the…

    Read more

  • Relaxation Prison

    One could call my home a relaxation prison. I don’t go anywhere or do anything of consequence to anyone but me. I plant and water flowers and watch them flourish along forest paths. I write in solitude. I prepare and eat my meals in solitude. I do everything alone. My warden, Norris, demands his cream.…

    Read more

  • Hurricane

    My heart will always be in the green of Appalachian small towns. The first house I remember was a one room school house converted into a four room house with a porch, and an outhouse out back. I have a picture of my sister and I playing in its backyard in front of the outhouse…

    Read more

  • In the midnight hour, when no one else is around or listening, the story I tell myself is that I didn’t fall off the turnip train yesterday. That the voice of Linda Ronstadt still rings true in my heart and head. I’m still the woman I was forty years ago even though I have silver…

    Read more

  • Long ago

    I’m still not used to the Fourth of July without the indignity of the sumptuous feasts my mother concocted on her birthday. They had everything but bursting fireworks against the black sky. They weren’t necessary for her celebrations. Everyone was too tired for them by dark anyway. The family would have had to replenish its…

    Read more

  • Lasagne Night

    “Do you remember when we had dinner in that old house in the woods on the farm?” Ruby asked as she took the pan of lasagne out of the oven.  Alan smiled. “Yeah, you wore your prom dress and I wore my sport coat. Mom made lasagne for us. We took it to that little…

    Read more

  • Image generated with AI Being home in my forest among my flowers allows me to be me. The old people said “tending violets cures melancholy.” There’s something about digging in dirt to plant my begonias and impatiens that does the same thing. It restores my soul from working all fall and winter. Every morning of…

    Read more

  • Goulash

    Image generated with AI. “I’m making goulash for dinner tonight. I’m going to use Mom’s recipe too.” said Janice. Mason hoped she remembered the recipe. Sometimes her memory of her Mom’s dishes were sketchy and turned out awful like the soup. He was skeptical of this goulash stuff. It had a weird name to it…

    Read more

  • Rainbow Tornado

    Photographer unknown “Look up there, Frank, what is that?” asked Bessie. “Is it the end of times?” “O shit, Bessie, it ain’t the end of times, that’s a rainbow tornado. The old people said those things were good luck. Instead of sucking everything up, it’s raining down good energy.” “You mean like letting Leprechauns loose…

    Read more


  • Passion

    The kalamata olives were supposed to be pitted, but the one Sam just bit on broke the tip off his left canine, and the jolt brought tears to his eyes. He looked at his reflection in his phone for confirmation of damage. His tooth was rough and jagged. His matching short vampire teeth were now…

  • I Did a Thing…

    https://www.amazon.com/s?k=Norris+tales+ii&crid=3A2N1W43XCPVA&sprefix=norris+tales+ii%2Caps%2C87&ref=nb_sb_noss Available in paperback, hardback, or Kindle Unlimited or Kindle.

  • Alpine 

    Alpine forgot all about the presentation due in Ethics 101 in two hours. He had a conglomeration of photos on his computer. A mix of people, places, and things, nouns he could mash together like words to spew out in front of a PowerPoint that would make him sound like he’d been up all night…

  • What color is “E”

    What color is the letter “E”? It’s red. E is the most used letter in the English language. It should stand out. E encompasses everything.  It’s one of the first letters children learn. For some reason, they even learn the term “schwa e” in first grade. I know I did. I still don’t know what…

  • You can see me?

    Image generated with AI Elsa had flour all over the kitchen and her fingers were sticky with dough. It would take more minutes of finger work, squeezing, kneading and molding the dough to get it to stick together for pastry. It would come together, get less sticky, then she would have to work her magic…