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…breathe deeply and often…

Category: Selections

  • Boon to the living

    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,…

  • Dirty Snow

    “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…

  • Sewing Lesson

    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…

  • Snow Wonderland

    Hazel stepped out on the stoop and stepped right back in the house. Her eyes were huge. “Is this what I think it is?” she screamed. It was still dark outside, but the white of seven inches of snow lay bright and unmistakable over everything outside. She could hear the…

  • Purple stuff

    Since I started teaching I’ve undergone many changes. I still have a real honest to God chalk board in my classroom instead of the standard white board these days.   The way I copy papers has changed significantly over the years. I started with the purple stuff. I would get so…

  • Junebug’s Dinner 

    “I feel like my head’s in a jar underwater,” said Junebug to no one at all as she burnt the last of the fried chicken. She couldn’t fry chicken any better than she could make biscuits. Her gravy and mashed potatoes were to die for though. The whole stick of…

  • Haiku in Winter

    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.…

  • The Fishing Village

    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…

  • Story Published!

    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…

  • Predictable Rant

    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…

  • 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…

  • 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.

  • Listen 

    I want to hear sweet nothings,  Things that are easy on my ears, not harsh reality laden syllables words and songs that are sweet and soothe my selfish ego.  I don’t want my eyes to twitch with bad news of wars and rumors of wars.  “Do you hear what I…

  • 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…