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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.
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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
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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
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“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
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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
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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
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Image generated with AI. In the old stories, when life went sideways, the princess had to go to the haunted forest to find the oracle. Diane thought she might as well give it a shot. It was a hundred degrees outside. The creek was ankle deep, the shade dappled and dark. She’d start looking here.
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The Question of the Tractor
“You damned idiot, you’d be late for your wedding, if you could find a damned woman who’d put up with your shit” said Cedric. He was trying so hard to be positive. He couldn’t though. He was an old man from out the creek, Clymers Creek. Paul couldn’t pour piss out of a boot. All Read more
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A Nod to Dante
In the middle of the journey I came to a dark wood where the straight way was lost. There was no yellow brick road circling toward an emerald city, only a crooked weed lined path with scraggly trees and tumbleweeds. None of the medication I took every morning made the day go right. Harpies to Read more
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The Circle: A short chapter
*The Circle “Well done! Well done!” Will stepped into the firelight, clapping. “Which one of you has the voice of an entire choir of angels? It could blow a hole through the top of the Globe. Now I will always have your voice in my head.” Rue crossed her arms and bent her head to Read more
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I heard someone say
I yawned and my coffee kicked in. Read more
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In the Museum
It wasn’t the wonders on the museum wall that captured my attention, although there were plenty to see. I felt a pang of shame about it too. I was properly enthralled and humbled by Picasso’s blue period, Monet’s waters, and VanGogh’s wonder year. I knew sacred ground when I was on it. The rarified air Read more
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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.
-
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
-
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
-
“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
-
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
-
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
-
Image generated with AI. In the old stories, when life went sideways, the princess had to go to the haunted forest to find the oracle. Diane thought she might as well give it a shot. It was a hundred degrees outside. The creek was ankle deep, the shade dappled and dark. She’d start looking here.
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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.
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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…
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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…
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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…
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Clementine’s Parchment
Image generated with AI. “I hate this tradition. It’s dumb. Why can’t we be like normal families and roast ducks and wear stupid hats?” said Janice. She was eighteen and didn’t want to write a sentence on her scroll this year. “Write what you feel. If you think it’s a stupid tradition, write about it…
Devonne Brown 