Apparently, freedom and finding a place of his own and away from the family after he graduated high school was not in the cards for Andrew; he wasn’t able to land a high-enough paying job to rent a single apartment or even a room in a elderly widow’s basement, he had no friends to go in together on housing because he had no friends, nor did he have funds for school. Continue reading
(To access the beginning of this 6-part series, please visit here: Solitude’s End)
Time Will Tell
Flora never met the little forest man in person, after all, although the storm had passed through over night, and the day that followed was sunny and unusually warm for the time of year. But she had seen his tiny footprints in the morning dew on the cement slab of the sheltered porch. Continue reading
(For the previous installment in this story, please click to my earlier post: What’s in a Name?)
January 27: Understanding
Decisions
Flora has been my BFF for longer than either of us can remember. And she was always a Flora, and I was always exactly who I am: a Megan. Continue reading
January 25: Journal
Gratitude
J-ust flipping through the journal stacks
O-prah, Ladies’ Home, and Country Shacks
U-p and comers follow their lead
R-ead with interest to determine their need
N-ow I, unfunded, can afford to say “no”
A-nd walk away from the circus show
L-imited funds have their happy use
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2022)
January 24: Unbelievable
What’s in a Name?
“But I swear to you, it’s all true!”
“Yeah, I think you spend too much time on your own, Megan,” Flora laughed. She frowned at Megan, at the hair that hadn’t seen a stylist for an entire summer, the crow’s feet limned in white from squinting into the sun, and the strong, tanned legs with skin just a bit too dry. At least she was still shaving her legs, but the cuts-offs were torn and baggy, and there was a stain on the oversized t-shirt.
Flora continued, “So where is this little forest man you’ve been telling me about?” Continue reading
He’d first caught the scent’s fragrant tang on an early morning breeze, on the first days after the snows had well and truly departed, and Summer lay tripping and sliding just beyond his range of perception. Continue reading
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