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Today is the day I say goodbye to Thanksgiving break. Anxiety and depression levels are rising, tonight is a school night after all. No more messing around with cats, movies, music, and road trips. House cleaning and laundry will become more of the chore they were before, and less of a leisure activity, they were…
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I am tempted to begin making my rough puff pastry for Christmas. It’s fully delicious and cheap to make. Yet it is the most labor intensive of all the Christmas delicacies I create, It’s worth every moment it takes for its creation. Butter and flour, rolled, folded, refrigerated and repeated at least five times, it…
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Sherri had her daughter’s heart’s desire. Annie needed a beaded clutch purse to go with her formal dress for the prom, just big enough to hold her lipstick and her glasses. Styles go round and round, and she sure enough saved the pocket book she’d taken to her formal dance years ago. Truth be told,…
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I wouldn’t have been in the grocery store on Thanksgiving morning if I didn’t need to take some dog food and a loaf of bread to my elderly aunt. That’s all she said she needed when I talked to her last night, after I baked her casserole. I would have been at home, binging on…
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He’d been here before and wanted to show her something magnificent.
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“I felt my pulse quicken when lightning lit the sky again, it was far away and showed the line of floating houses”
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John noticed the barrier she’d put between them.
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Lucinda called the suicide hotline.. The counselor’s parting words were to cook something delicious just for herself. The counselor began with, “too hard to be alone, too hard to have a job you hate, too hard to be a senior citizen so far into debt the only way your life insurance would pay off would…
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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.… Read more
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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… Read more
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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… Read more
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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… Read more
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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… Read more
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How to hide a genius
As a society, we paint the most malformed picture we can grumble about. We tangle our thoughts in knots of despair so tight we can’t move from one group to the next without dire consequences. Once you move, there’s no going back, especially if you’ve moved “down.” Shunning is done with silent delight. Open, honest,… Read more
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Today is the day I say goodbye to Thanksgiving break. Anxiety and depression levels are rising, tonight is a school night after all. No more messing around with cats, movies, music, and road trips. House cleaning and laundry will become more of the chore they were before, and less of a leisure activity, they were…
-
I am tempted to begin making my rough puff pastry for Christmas. It’s fully delicious and cheap to make. Yet it is the most labor intensive of all the Christmas delicacies I create, It’s worth every moment it takes for its creation. Butter and flour, rolled, folded, refrigerated and repeated at least five times, it…
-
Sherri had her daughter’s heart’s desire. Annie needed a beaded clutch purse to go with her formal dress for the prom, just big enough to hold her lipstick and her glasses. Styles go round and round, and she sure enough saved the pocket book she’d taken to her formal dance years ago. Truth be told,…
-
I wouldn’t have been in the grocery store on Thanksgiving morning if I didn’t need to take some dog food and a loaf of bread to my elderly aunt. That’s all she said she needed when I talked to her last night, after I baked her casserole. I would have been at home, binging on…
-
He’d been here before and wanted to show her something magnificent.
-
“I felt my pulse quicken when lightning lit the sky again, it was far away and showed the line of floating houses”
-
John noticed the barrier she’d put between them.
-
Lucinda called the suicide hotline.. The counselor’s parting words were to cook something delicious just for herself. The counselor began with, “too hard to be alone, too hard to have a job you hate, too hard to be a senior citizen so far into debt the only way your life insurance would pay off would…
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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…
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Gilly and the Peashooters
“Gilly and the Peashooters” was first published in Appalachian Fusion, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Contemporary Appalachian Writing, Vol 27
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Creation sans fear
I don’t have to practice transcendental meditation to create masterworks, maybe I do.
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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…
Devonne Brown 