She’d stayed longer than she should have, and now it was too late. She was going to be in big trouble. Once again, she’d had another of those fabulous steaming popovers, downed one too many G&Ts Continue reading
BOTS
Based on a true story, or real-world
Cut and Run
Scrubbing her hands over her face, she replayed the voicemail. Listening for clues that said otherwise, she accepted that nothing had changed. She was to comply, absolutely.
Wishing Well
Source: Rob Swanson Photography
The woods were deep, the path mostly overgrown since the last time she’d padded, barefoot and shining, to find the well. Lost and despairing, Myrna lifted her eyes to the liquid warble and slash of fiery red high above. Continue reading
New World In the Morning
Hunched over the bar rail, leaning into the bowl of free peanuts, having made his way from the bright morning, across a treacherous savannah of broken shells, pull-tabs and a number of suspicious sticky spots, Artie noted he was out of money and therefore, on his final drink. Continue reading
Hope. Springs. Eternal.
We’ve gotten a respite from chilblain-blistering cold, with temps tomorrow in the mid-sixties. Nearly a week of melting’s left my home’s southern exposure (nearly) stripped of snow, grass matted like a week in bed with stomach flu. Rain, possibly thunder, predicted for the day after tomorrow; may it inspire some green. Continue reading
Sunday Morning
I lift my paddle for a moment, hearing but not noting the drip of water that slides off its smooth, blond curve. My canoe slices through the morning cool, bisecting and self-healing the waters as I pass. Below the dark water, silent lake grass caresses sand and small, secret pebbles. Continue reading
On the Other Hand…
Nitia drew the back of her hand across her damp forehead and rested her palm on the front of her hip as she surveyed the basement playroom. Continue reading
