Devonne Brown

athesaurus.com

…breathe deeply and often…

Tag: writing

  • Rage Against the Night

    House at Dusk, Edward Hopper I stumbled out of the mansion’s patio door, the band blared jazz, and I needed air, the whole house panted with people. My head was hot and my hair stuck to my neck from the prickly head, My ears rang from music, laughter, and the…

  • Don’t Tell Mom.

    “Don’t tell Mom,” I said. “She’s pregnant.” he said right in front of Mom. He pointed to me. “He did that on purpose too. If he had kept his mouth shut you wouldn’t be here. Neither one of you would. Your dad saved your lives. You can give him credit…

  • The Legacy of an Antique Cash Register

    Believe it or not, the eighty year old cash register on the hutch still worked. Yeah, it needed cleaning up and oiled real good, but the buttons pushed down and the metal tabs inside the windows popped up to tell you how much it was going to cost, up to…

  • Idle Hands

    “Keep your hands busy and the hours will pass like minutes,” she said while she pulled the  needle up through the fabric. “Don’t let your mind dwell on the world around you. Focus inside yourself. Focus on that which you create. The blanket with the yarn, the dress with the…

  • Spiders, Flies, and Coffee

    “Spiders, Flies, and Coffee” a Quirky Flash Fiction Piece by Devonne Brown Published in Chewers and Masticadores, April 29, 2025

  • Well, you never asked…

    Your eyes filled with tears-Why didn’t you let me help?Well, you never asked.Can I come as well?I’m bouncing from foot to foot.Well, you never asked.Why don’t you join meSwinging arms, walking, skipping?Well, you never asked. Well, you never asked….is a statement about you or me. I could make it all…

  • Longing: 2 Haiku

    Longing: 1 HaikuClosing my eyes andWanting what hasn’t been gainedSmiling wistfullyLonging: 2 HaikuSpending time aloneI rub my hand o’r my heartA weight in my chest

  • Thank you, Mr. Sullivan

    I suppose the Appalachian tradition of giving kids weird names, Stanley Hugo,  Ervin Otto, or even Oral Homer was part and parcel of growing up in the isolation of the hollers. I was the last of the kids to get a holler name before we moved out to the suburbs,…

  • Report Card

    My son is judging me. If he were to give me a report card it would be  how long do I stay awake when I come home from school,  how much time do I spend writing,  how often and well do I cook for him,  how clean do I keep…

  • The Shade Room

    I am simple. I go to my shade room. It would be a sun room if there were no giant oaks and holly trees covering its porch and backyard. Moss, hostas, ferns and begonias grow there, as well as my bed of impatiens. Mint, the plant that’s supposed to take…

  • Eavesdropping

    “Martha, I told you I would be late. I’m sorry you’ve got to put the kids to bed by yourself again tonight, I just got on the bus. I can’t teleport very well,” I could tell this well dressed, dark haired, professional dude, with the chiseled chin sitting beside me…

  • Delight Risk

    Either you will fall, or will be taught to fly.

  • High School Gossip

    “I heard they broke up and Tom was going to ask Janeen to the prom,” Becky announced it in Social Studies class. “Betty was all upset about it in English this morning. She was so mad she was crying. I’d hate to be Janeen,”  “How do you know that’s why…

  • Interrupting Birdsong

    I asked for the time, but the darkness didn’t answer. I rolled out of bed, and walked down the hall to the kitchen. The clock on the stove said 3:00 a.m., so why not make coffee and enjoy the quiet of the morning? Listen to the songbirds and the breathing…