I couldn’t resist responding to the lovely Carol Adriana Estrella‘s post on Facebook this morning. “Doing a small survey: What are your first thoughts when you hear…
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This is my story. Boots and a bag, sherbet sunrise, an extended furlough at the beach, the Cove, side-trip to the bayou and the self-confinement of four walls inside…
Leave a CommentRoots and Wings God isn’t looking for me That’s okay He’s busy Lots of heartache going on Too much trouble all around People don’t see…
One Comment“I’m sorry.” This may be the most overrated, overused phrase in my catch-all, go to, spit it out library. Most times I don’t really mean it,…
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We are all like it or not, intertwined. The way the stories breeze through my mind, much like the people I have loved and let…
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“Harrison’s experience of her new milieu is full of sensory observation. An early chapter refers to the city in tantalizing terms: New York tasted better…
Leave a Comment“It all comes back to a red metal bench in the woods, on a small hill by a nothing special pond. The air is sweet and wet and fall is here for now. Ducks sleep near the brisk, damp water waiting to take flight to sunnier places, offering no solution. I shiver and squirm in my own discomfort, clenching the bench, determined to will myself better. I’ll sit there god damn it, I’m as stubborn as you, until there is something to look forward to. I’m not pretending rosy and cheery just maybe a hint of curiosity.
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light living under the ethers colorless, evaporates quickly when exposed to air you can't touch it, but you know it's there …
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