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Steve liked to joke that he “sang best ten or twelve miles away” when asked, but volunteered just the same.
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When there’s a foot of snow on the ground one cannot always count on a garbage bag to carry one to the bottom of a perfect and steep hill, not even with a head start. The snow was hard powder and ripe for sledding. A black trash bag had been all I had needed before
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A civilian doesn’t get it, gets mad when they hear about it, gets furious if they have kids in school, and they hear the words “Snow Day.” Yet, those are soul soothing words to a teacher. Even one who believes her class to be so important that her instructional time is the most important part
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“I love the way you think, Cynthia.” John ordered their desserts.
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Barefoot Willie sang to his bunny and his bunny sang to him.
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Mary rolled the joint with a dollar bill and impressed the four others in the room as usual. Every Tuesday for the last two years the “Women of Presence” as they had labeled themselves, met in Lynn’s basement room and got high after work. Mary passed the joint to Sallie, who lit it herself. “I
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My seven a.m. writing group has been a healing presence for me. I’ve expressed more of myself to that group of people in fact and fiction than I ever have to any relative, friend, or therapist. Because of them, I’ve grown as a writer and a human. The journey continues to be full. I learn
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The ladies of the family have a disease. We are besotted with the collecting of pretty vintage dishes. Cheap dime store ceramics, thrift store cut crystal, hand me down depression glass and more fill not one but three china cabinets in my little old lady school teacher’s home. Actually, there are four if you count
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My grandmother, Virgie made soup from whatever she had in the pantry, canned tomatoes, corn, green beans, potatoes, and carrots. She cooked it down then thickened it up. It was sour with a hint of all the vegetables working in tandem. Soup days at Virgies’s were reserved for project days. We could work straight through,
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The Last Sunday
The Last Sunday of Summer Today is the last Sunday of summer. I go back to school tomorrow. A whole new ride starts. I didn’t think about it until yesterday. God, I hate giving up summer. I became a writer this summer. Being a writer gives you permission to stay home and write. In fact, Read more
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Garden Success
All gardens need a boy. Read more
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Soccer Mom
Soccer Mom “When someone makes a goal, click this button and record the time here and the kid’s number here,” said Linda, the coach. She was pointing to two columns on an Excel Spreadsheet on one of those coach’s clipboards with the secret compartments. “They’re six, Linda, why do we need a spreadsheet?” I think Read more
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Summer Days
Summer Days People ask me how I spend my summers. I have few human relatives near me, so Norris, Madam, and Opal Pearl are the immediate family. The true answer is I spend my summers doing whatever I want. I met two and a half goals this summer, and I rarely set goals. The first Read more
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Collections
Collections Inventory Dishes Antique furniture My journals Cats 2 Dog 1 Twins Lotsa boys Almost two books Two published things I’m in a writer’s permutation of life at the moment. I collect books about writing and writing advice. I have writing friends and their books. I go to writing conferences and groups. I write blogs, Read more
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Steve liked to joke that he “sang best ten or twelve miles away” when asked, but volunteered just the same.
-
When there’s a foot of snow on the ground one cannot always count on a garbage bag to carry one to the bottom of a perfect and steep hill, not even with a head start. The snow was hard powder and ripe for sledding. A black trash bag had been all I had needed before
-
A civilian doesn’t get it, gets mad when they hear about it, gets furious if they have kids in school, and they hear the words “Snow Day.” Yet, those are soul soothing words to a teacher. Even one who believes her class to be so important that her instructional time is the most important part
-
“I love the way you think, Cynthia.” John ordered their desserts.
-
Barefoot Willie sang to his bunny and his bunny sang to him.
-
Mary rolled the joint with a dollar bill and impressed the four others in the room as usual. Every Tuesday for the last two years the “Women of Presence” as they had labeled themselves, met in Lynn’s basement room and got high after work. Mary passed the joint to Sallie, who lit it herself. “I
-
My seven a.m. writing group has been a healing presence for me. I’ve expressed more of myself to that group of people in fact and fiction than I ever have to any relative, friend, or therapist. Because of them, I’ve grown as a writer and a human. The journey continues to be full. I learn
-
The ladies of the family have a disease. We are besotted with the collecting of pretty vintage dishes. Cheap dime store ceramics, thrift store cut crystal, hand me down depression glass and more fill not one but three china cabinets in my little old lady school teacher’s home. Actually, there are four if you count
-
My grandmother, Virgie made soup from whatever she had in the pantry, canned tomatoes, corn, green beans, potatoes, and carrots. She cooked it down then thickened it up. It was sour with a hint of all the vegetables working in tandem. Soup days at Virgies’s were reserved for project days. We could work straight through,
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Mary Comforts Eve
“Girl, shit happens. You can’t tell me it doesn’t. Sometimes our choices are part of the grand scheme of the universe. A tale told by someone else. But you’re not the bad guy of the story, you’re free now,” said Mary. Eve sobbed with guilt and grief. The snake around her ankle climbed higher up…
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Public Communications
“I absolutely know what you want me to say,” said Thomas. He’d been with Celia all day and all evening. They’d worked all day together, been to the bar after work to celebrate with the public communications team, and now they were headed home. They were at the crossroads. “I can go right and head…
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The Voice
“Hugh Henry you have the ability to choke the living shit out of every situation like an intergalactic missile,” His mother told him straight up. She was tired of listening to his tirade about why the symphony shouldn’t play next Sunday. He thought it was too frivolous, way too frivolous, to assemble the whole orchestra…
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Everlastingly
“Everlastingly,” Janet hissed the word out as long as she could to give it the onomatopoeia sound of the crashing waves she needed to hear. “Listen! The mighty being is awake and doth with his eternal motion make a sound like thunder, everlastingly.” Janet quoted Wordsworth when she crossed the bridge to Emerald Isle. It…
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Whitewater
So they threw them together into the stream and the two splashes they made were as one. They tossed the rings into the maelstrom of the churning rapidsTheir perfect union ended as it had begun, blessed and honored.Washed downstream in holy water,Their wedding rings lost in the turbulence on the river rocks beneath the white…
Devonne Brown 