Six Months Ago…

snow-covered trees and shrub around a flowing streamIt’s been hot here in the Twin Cities.

Hot and humid.

Hot and humid and COVID.

So much so, that folks are divided on whether to wear masks or not, and what the actual distance of six feet looks like: whether distance is different in an enclosed space versus an open space, whether the current air filtration system is adequate to dispel the exhalations (the coronavirus soup), whether six feet is buffer enough when one is active, whether adding a drink or two to the mix makes for exponential risk… Continue reading “Six Months Ago…”

RIP Twin Cities

cracked heart picture in pavementThis gentle giant
Ended by corrupt police
Remember George Floyd.

Hope strained, smoke-stained streets
Shattered hearts, Minnesota
Patience, as we heal.

(This, on top of COVID. And those who gather together–prayers broken by opportunistic anarchists–risk a steeper next wave in the coming weeks.)

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2020)

Necessary Sacrifice

The spellbook was specific: one hundred candles to draw and light the circle, less one for each sorceress. Fewer, and the plague would continue. Once fully lit, the circle could not be crossed. Back to back, the three worked quickly, coaxing flame from dry wick. The twins moved clockwise, junior apprentice Bella counterclockwise. Continue reading “Necessary Sacrifice”

Photo & Film on NewsLine Tonight

View of Grand CAnyon
Photo by Linnaea Mallette

Jack stood at the canyon’s edge and switched his phone to selfie mode. Too much face, not enough canyon. “All wrong,” he muttered. “I need maximum impressiveness.”

Phone in hand, he climbed the ledge, mindful of the low safety railing, and turned his back to the canyon. Still too much face. It was then that he noticed the tiny icons on the bottom of his screen. A choice between many figures, or one. He pressed many figures. “Wow! Way more canyon, just enough face.” Continue reading “Photo & Film on NewsLine Tonight”