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Are you sure you’re right?You can’t be having twinsGreatest Christmas gift
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Photo by Douglas John Imbrogno “I’ve survived one hundred percent of the days that were just God-awful. I am happy to be alive on good days. I do wonder about what’s next though. Next. What’s coming? I’ve got a lot coming on my plate. I have many choices to make, much to be careful of,…
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“Mom, where are the boots you got me for Christmas?” asked Charlie. He tore the living room upside down looking for them. Couch cushions went flying, followed by blankets, and newspapers, he made an unholy mess. “Stop it! Stop throwing stuff around and straighten this room up right now,” Alice was livid. “You know better…
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Santa brought me a baby doll for Christmas one year that had white curly hair like an old lady. She had a rubber head and blue eyes that would open and close when she sat up and lay down. Her arms and legs were rubber too, attached to a stuffed body. She was about half…
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The whittling down of a grandiloquent tale to seventeen syllables. Getting the juice from it to its purist form wrings the neck of a piece of writing so tight that all that’s left is the essence of its meaning, a haiku. Five seven five. The dear sweet poems of eternity. Pictures in pure form Whittled…
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Image generated with AI. I’ve never been to a fishing village in Scotland. I don’t care about cities and tourism. The small town misty cold draws me. I want to walk out on a rocky shore to hear the waves crash and redden my cheeks with cold as long as I can stand the grey…
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Thank you, Nolcha Fox and Chewers and Masticadores! Beatrice Entombed Millard watched the undertakers close the drawer that held Beatrice’s casket, and waited until everyone left the cemetery. A dusty brown cloud followed a parade of black limousines crawling their way up the side of a mountain to the main road. The last thing he…
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It’s time to get more aggressive about the life that I want. I’ve already decided what life I don’t want. I decided years ago that I wanted out of teaching. Retirement is within my reach. I called the retirement board and found that I was eligible for retirement six years ago, but it was financially…
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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…
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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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Defensive Secrets
“You majored in theatre in college, in your twenties and thirties, you were active in community theatre and children’s theatre, you taught theatre, yet you never took your boys to a play or got them involved in theatre when they were little. Why is that?” the news anchor asked me. I had been expecting this… Read more
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Mom’s Roadtrip
Mom lost her mind and married Roebuck. None of the kids could stand him, but she was entitled to her midlife crisis, same as anyone else. Since his house burned down on their first date, something about gunpowder gun cleaning equipment and an explosion, such a catastrophe, that they moved to Texas soon after they… Read more
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My Cloister
Smile. I biked to the cathedral in the spring. I was an overweight 40 year old American woman on a bike tangled in British traffic. The underpass near the roundabout before the cathedral was scary, traffic came from everywhere and all directions. I should not have survived the rides into town. That’s the cloister walk.… Read more
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Dear Creativity
Dear Creativity, It’s time we stopped piddling about and started dancing together. Since I was little, you’ve been working against me instead of with me. You and I have been out of time and one ingredient shy of success since I was born, and you know it. You left me in the dust, or did… Read more
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Running out of Time in Dante’s Spiral
“Turn in your papers.” “I’m not finished. You didn’t give us enough time,” said Jason. “You had two days to copy ten sentences correctly. That was enough time,” I said. “I wasn’t listening, that’s not fair. I’m calling my mom,” said Jason. Pressure. I wasn’t listening either. I wasn’t listening half of the time when… Read more
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Are you sure you’re right?You can’t be having twinsGreatest Christmas gift
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Photo by Douglas John Imbrogno “I’ve survived one hundred percent of the days that were just God-awful. I am happy to be alive on good days. I do wonder about what’s next though. Next. What’s coming? I’ve got a lot coming on my plate. I have many choices to make, much to be careful of,…
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“Mom, where are the boots you got me for Christmas?” asked Charlie. He tore the living room upside down looking for them. Couch cushions went flying, followed by blankets, and newspapers, he made an unholy mess. “Stop it! Stop throwing stuff around and straighten this room up right now,” Alice was livid. “You know better…
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Santa brought me a baby doll for Christmas one year that had white curly hair like an old lady. She had a rubber head and blue eyes that would open and close when she sat up and lay down. Her arms and legs were rubber too, attached to a stuffed body. She was about half…
-
The whittling down of a grandiloquent tale to seventeen syllables. Getting the juice from it to its purist form wrings the neck of a piece of writing so tight that all that’s left is the essence of its meaning, a haiku. Five seven five. The dear sweet poems of eternity. Pictures in pure form Whittled…
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Image generated with AI. I’ve never been to a fishing village in Scotland. I don’t care about cities and tourism. The small town misty cold draws me. I want to walk out on a rocky shore to hear the waves crash and redden my cheeks with cold as long as I can stand the grey…
-
Thank you, Nolcha Fox and Chewers and Masticadores! Beatrice Entombed Millard watched the undertakers close the drawer that held Beatrice’s casket, and waited until everyone left the cemetery. A dusty brown cloud followed a parade of black limousines crawling their way up the side of a mountain to the main road. The last thing he…
-
It’s time to get more aggressive about the life that I want. I’ve already decided what life I don’t want. I decided years ago that I wanted out of teaching. Retirement is within my reach. I called the retirement board and found that I was eligible for retirement six years ago, but it was financially…
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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…
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Escape
“Get out,” her brain screamed inside her head and her arms tingled, and her knees wobbled. She looked for the exit. The clock ticked. There were twenty five people between her and the door. Forty-five minutes between her and the end of the session. The room was silent save for the shuffle of the occasional…
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When the Ship Lifts
Artwork by Charles Jupiter Hamilton It took a long time to get here, to this place of the ordinary. What had to be figured out was what was commonplace. What could be tolerated, what she wanted to confront. She learned to pick the battles. Some fell away, some had to be fought. Some she lost,…
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When Life Gets Weird
All women in their time play all the parts. When time’s struggle hacks away at the core of motherhood, she blooms Slices of her incognito souls fall around her. She’s protected her child with her promises Surefooted he stands on her love and covers his head, With the hat of awareness. The recognition that Her…
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Mona
Like most things, Mona ignored the timer, and kept reading her book. She was approaching the climax of a scene, she needed to see the outcome of the turning point, wanted to watch the table turn, she couldn’t put the pages down just yet. Nothing was on fire. She read on. Of course the protagonist…
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Luxuries of Life
Time, health, a calm mind, slow mornings, the ability to travel, a home I love, and close relationships, is there more to life that I could need? How much time is granted to me? How much time do I need? Is it enough? I think so. I believe it will be enough to show the…
Devonne Brown 