-
In a flash of inspiration, Cynthia decided to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany. She’d had a vision of the three wise men giving their gifts to the Christ child and decided it would be fun to have a small Christmas today. She was sure to get an eye roll from her kids. That’s what
-
Who would have thought a six year old would put a curse on a toybox, but he did. Ian wrote “This toybox is cursed” on the lid of a round cheese wheel box in permanent black marker. He’d given warning, especially to his brother Nick, to leave his stuff alone. Time is a bootlegged curse.
-
Jill set up the tea table for her and Alan. It was the most romantic spot she had ever seen. It was stupid to put it in a field of perfect spheres of ripe round seeds, ready to blow away at the slightest breeze. Nothing stays the same. It wasn’t windy, maybe it would last
-
“I’m home,” Liza said walking through the door of her house. Nobody answered, nobody was there. “I’m home,” she sighed. The silence that greeted her made her smile. She set her bag on the floor beside the china cabinet and heard the faint rattle of the dishes within its wooden walls. The cat sauntered from
-
Will I be calm because I am the crone now? The wise woman and matriarch. I’ve been where most women haven’t been yet and I hope they don’t have to tread in all of my footsteps. I’ve walked through painful places, broken glass and hot coals in bare feet to develop the calluses of wisdom.
-
Say yes to the dress. There’s power in the dress. I remember my sister standing in the dressing room as she stepped into the puddle of white satin on the floor. The puddle became an armor of white. Bridal white. At twenty-three, I was reluctant to get a wedding dress. I couldn’t bear to go
-
The dusty journals
Image generated with AI. Junebug looked at the stack of dusty handwritten journals in the corner. Like hell she wanted them. That’s all she needed, a stack of hundred year old books piled up beside the toolbox in the laundry room. Maybe they’d be better next to the washer, between the shelf where the charger Read more
-
Flutter
Above the trees wings spreadBlack and cawingOn the breeze What’s left of theLeavesAs they race to flyHigherIn swirls and in whirlsBend to the groundAnd I dipThen upBefore I touch and soarAnd dive down againAlmost to the groundFallingWings spreadBlack and cawingOn the breezeBefore fall Becomes Winter again. Read more
-
Today’s Expectations
Today is a day that I have lots of unexpected things on my mind. I’m not feeling particularly creative as much as documentative about it. There’s flour all over the kitchen because there’s no point in cleaning it up yet. I’ve yet to make the pastry for the pasties. I expected to have that done Read more
-
Unexpected Thanksgiving Visitor
“Room for one more?” Shelly said with that sideways grin of hers and Wisconsin accent. The daughter of my mom’s estranged sister was at my door. I’d recognize her anywhere. She had the same stringy hair and bangs she did when she was nine, and her mom left her with my parents for the summer, Read more
-
This year I am Thankful
This year I am grateful for so many things, but what swims to the top of mind are my live-in son, Ian and his girlfriend, Norris, and of course my writing group. Ian and Katelyn have gone out of their way to be nice to me. I appreciate being included in their plans and lives. Read more
-
In a flash of inspiration, Cynthia decided to celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany. She’d had a vision of the three wise men giving their gifts to the Christ child and decided it would be fun to have a small Christmas today. She was sure to get an eye roll from her kids. That’s what
-
Who would have thought a six year old would put a curse on a toybox, but he did. Ian wrote “This toybox is cursed” on the lid of a round cheese wheel box in permanent black marker. He’d given warning, especially to his brother Nick, to leave his stuff alone. Time is a bootlegged curse.
-
Jill set up the tea table for her and Alan. It was the most romantic spot she had ever seen. It was stupid to put it in a field of perfect spheres of ripe round seeds, ready to blow away at the slightest breeze. Nothing stays the same. It wasn’t windy, maybe it would last
-
“I’m home,” Liza said walking through the door of her house. Nobody answered, nobody was there. “I’m home,” she sighed. The silence that greeted her made her smile. She set her bag on the floor beside the china cabinet and heard the faint rattle of the dishes within its wooden walls. The cat sauntered from
-
Will I be calm because I am the crone now? The wise woman and matriarch. I’ve been where most women haven’t been yet and I hope they don’t have to tread in all of my footsteps. I’ve walked through painful places, broken glass and hot coals in bare feet to develop the calluses of wisdom.
-
Say yes to the dress. There’s power in the dress. I remember my sister standing in the dressing room as she stepped into the puddle of white satin on the floor. The puddle became an armor of white. Bridal white. At twenty-three, I was reluctant to get a wedding dress. I couldn’t bear to go
-
Mama’s Revenge
Image generated with AI. “Did I miss a message?” She knew her son’s intentions, she just thought he knew better, she didn’t want to get into a sniping match, so she shut up. Some things were better left unsaid. Mama didn’t like it when her boy kept her car out all night without asking. “I…
-
Potato Salad
Image generated with AI When I go outside, summer smells like rain and cut grass. If I sit on my rocking chair on the back porch, I smell the deep green dirt and dead leaves of forest earth supporting my flowers. The deadfall of the yard, dotted with bright pink begonias and orange, fuchsia, and…
-
Promise and Truth
Image generated with AI Alice Krudworthy gave up on lying a long time ago. She quit making up shit, but would often omit certain details to bend the thinking of whomever she was talking to. “What did you have for dinner?” Someone would ask innocuously. “Salad, with apples, chickpeas, avocados, tomatoes, and crab. I made…
-
Fall, Flail, or Fly?
Photo by Tasha Marie To be or not to be. fall, flail, or fly? Ribs tight and hard, stomach in knots. I don’t even see the setting sun, there are no colors left in the grey of dusk. The ocean laps and pounds the jutting rock on which I stand. I pull my hair to…
-
Wet Produce
Image generated with AI. Grocery shopping is a necessary evil. I don’t like shopping in the first place, and spending an exorbitant amount of money on sustenance seems like a sin. Life is so expensive, it doesn’t need to be so annoying to get the things I need and want. Ordering groceries online for pickup…

