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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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Snooty Defined
Snooty defined “‘Brook’ sounds too snooty, use ‘creek.’ You’re always putting on airs. Stop trying to be somebody you’re not, use ‘creek.’” said Mr. Barber. Shit, he was mean. I didn’t want him looking at my paper, not after what I’d just heard him do to Cynthia’s. He was right, of course, she was always…
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Today I Want…
Today, I want… Summer is a conundrum. I look forward to summer all year long, to be out of school and away from the stench of curriculum. I want to be away from pointing and clicking at things so trite and mindless that it makes me want to lose what little relationship with a creator…
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Tend
I tend a heartless garden. Once bursting with flowers blue ones seeds tossed from witch’s brooms on full moon rides, cold ones Belladonna blues widen your eyes enough show you Jesus through foxglove’s purple haze and sweeten the path with Camomile Come walk with me. I’ll show you.
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I Need Seven Letters
I looked at the board. “MEDICATE.” My letters covered all but the “C.” Upwords, the word game of all word games, and I scored sixteen points plus a fifty point bonus score. “Eat that!” Nick looked at me with fire in his eyes. Not even his Mama, Express of the Galaxy, Sworn Sorceress of All…
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The Teacher
Ode to a Teacher Hammat. John Charles Hammat. Unconventional teacher of the universe died last month. Taught for four years, my four years, enough to get one class through, and quit to clean houses and live however he chose. He’d had enough of public schools. He taught Drama and English, but I only had him…

