-
The artists couldn’t have been more different. One used a palette knife to sculpt landscapes of heaven. He caught the flickering glint of stars and swirling clouds of gas and light with oily pigments. He imprisoned the light and wonder of Orion, caught his bow in mid-aim. His kin captured the magnificence of the heavens
-
“The lightning webbed and arced across the black sky. Thunder of a thousand sonic booms shook the whole house. It did it again and again and again. “I got it on my camera, look. It’s phenomenal. I bet it goes viral. “What do you think?” asked Sadie. “Look, here it comes again. James Weldon Johnson’s
-
I begged for a guitar for Christmas. I got down on my knees in supplication to Mom one Saturday morn when the snow was knee deep outside, I remember. That’s all she heard that year. I did every chore she gave me with glee, on the outside at least, three quarters my best instead of
-
“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
-
“Gilly and the Peashooters” was first published in Appalachian Fusion, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Contemporary Appalachian Writing, Vol 27
-
I don’t have to practice transcendental meditation to create masterworks, maybe I do.
-
Her worst nightmare had come true. Diane was due back to assume command of operations in two weeks after being out for twelve for surgery. Her employees were happier without her. People got along better, things ran smoother, life was more relaxed. There were fewer feuds among staff, fewer emergencies popped up, things were just
-
Grateful Right Now
Right this very minute I am most grateful for my freedom. It makes me glad I signed up to be a teacher. Summer makes the stress of the stupidity I put up with for seven and a half months a year worth it. I schedule important events on my summer calendar. If it doesn’t get Read more
-
Avenue of the Olive Trees
Avenue of the Olive Trees, Henri Matisse “The shadows are ripe,” she said, and one floated across her face. The clouds were out, tap dancing back and forth between the leaves and branches and the sun. True. They were dark and deep big green shadows on the ground from the ancient limbs, Giant, strong, and Read more
-
Zoom Nap
The writing prompt was something about standing in line at Walmart when your eyes saw your sibling/twin’s face for the first time. That’s what my memory was left with. I know the prompt was about a line and a long lost sibling. I decided to go with the twin theme. I always go with twin Read more
-
Putting it off…
Putting it off… Once, I was a fashion plate. I dressed in incredible clothes that I designed and made myself. I’d stay up into the wee hours sewing complicated patterns with facings, buttons, zippers, lots of handwork, and they were amazing. Designer clothes. Beautiful work. When I got pregnant with twins, that shit stopped cold Read more
-
That Time My Hair
I never had a problem with my hair, but Mom was always messing with it. She never let me grow it long because “I couldn’t take care of it.” Truth was, she didn’t want to take care of it and said I was too lazy and inept to handle it, qualities I’ve fought off my Read more
-
The artists couldn’t have been more different. One used a palette knife to sculpt landscapes of heaven. He caught the flickering glint of stars and swirling clouds of gas and light with oily pigments. He imprisoned the light and wonder of Orion, caught his bow in mid-aim. His kin captured the magnificence of the heavens
-
“The lightning webbed and arced across the black sky. Thunder of a thousand sonic booms shook the whole house. It did it again and again and again. “I got it on my camera, look. It’s phenomenal. I bet it goes viral. “What do you think?” asked Sadie. “Look, here it comes again. James Weldon Johnson’s
-
I begged for a guitar for Christmas. I got down on my knees in supplication to Mom one Saturday morn when the snow was knee deep outside, I remember. That’s all she heard that year. I did every chore she gave me with glee, on the outside at least, three quarters my best instead of
-
“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
-
“Gilly and the Peashooters” was first published in Appalachian Fusion, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Contemporary Appalachian Writing, Vol 27
-
I don’t have to practice transcendental meditation to create masterworks, maybe I do.
-
Her worst nightmare had come true. Diane was due back to assume command of operations in two weeks after being out for twelve for surgery. Her employees were happier without her. People got along better, things ran smoother, life was more relaxed. There were fewer feuds among staff, fewer emergencies popped up, things were just
-
Word Wednesday: Whalesong from “chord, note, Baltic, crowd, bronze, odor”
AI generated image. “I never thought I’d be standing on the deck of a cruise ship in the middle of the Baltic sea listening to whale songs, The notes and chords from their throats are stuff I only dreamed about,” Madeline watched the fog move over the waves. The famous clicks and moans of the…
-
Hateful Liberation
Mom and Dad were the loves of each other’s lives. They found each other during summers when Mom went to Clay county to visit her grandparents. Their love for each other never changed. Even after they divorced thirty-two years later after dad met and had an affair with CH, the most despicable woman I’d ever…
-
The Trap
A groundhog attacked the lily in the flower bed in the front of the house. For three years the lily had grown to the size of a bushel basket and was covered in buds. The varmint didn’t eat the leaves. Oh no. It waited until the buds were ripe and ready to burst into the…
-
Tincher’s Store
AI generated image. Tincher’s Store and Post Office was the train station once. It stood not a hundred feet from the railroad tracks, and its wide wooden porch doubled as a bus stop in the pouring rain. We had no idea how long ago it stopped being a train station, it was half a mile…
-
Anxiety be damned
“No amount of anxiety makes any difference to anything that is going to happen,” said Alan Watts from the podium, his closing remarks. He got a standing ovation. I was pissed. I didn’t disagree with him, but I was pissed. I hate having reality thrown up in my face. My anxiety is often debilitating. That’s…
Devonne Brown 