She rinsed the last dish and set it in the drainer. Days had again grown short, this season and over the years. The leaves, crisp from a day’s rain and evening’s temps, were barely visible out the window. Her silhouette softened in its reflection; the living room light glowed orange behind her. Continue reading
romance
Olde Worlde Charm
“You’re certain this will work?” The charm, clasped in Anna’s smooth young hand, was redolent of rose hips, cinnamon, and sweet basil…and something exotic from the far southern lands. Eyes shining with hopeful, as yet unshed tears, she clasped the woven bag to her breast.
So Hot
photo credit http://pdpics.com/
Sweat slid down between her breasts, over her taut belly, dipping into her round navel and dampening the fabric of her summer shorts. Her sports bra was soaked, unable to absorb more sweet summer effusions. Continue reading
He Waits
He waits on the bridge by the lagoon, staring down at the moon, a pale and wavering contrast in dark water. Further down the shore, a splash and pop, followed by crunching, draws his attention. A moose shakes its ears in greeting and turns back to its evening snack. Continue reading
Cure for Cabin Fever
Crystal bottles stood before her, hip shot in relaxed groups. Scented soldiers, they had no expectation they’d be called to order; Treena preferred sweatpants to skinny jeans, books to bodies grinding on a dance floor. Continue reading
Where Has Summer Gone?
I look for her in the living room. The Pendleton blanket is folded and laid neatly on the back of the overstuffed couch (my sister’s choice). Mother’s hand-crocheted throw rests gently on the seat of our childhood rocking chair (my choice). Dust motes swirl in the half-light of this cloudy November afternoon, whispering rumors of light snow mirroring their desultory dance. It’s plenty cold outside those triple-pane windows. Continue reading
Cutting Ties and Mudslides
Billy burst through the front door of the barbershop, sliding across the checkered floor and into an empty barber chair. He twirled twice and stopped.
Emil leaned back in the other chair, barber’s cape rustling over his sagging paunch.
Leon raised his shears from Emil’s thinning pate, “How can I help, Billy?” He didn’t really want to know, but he was a businessman.
“Dahlia’s gone and told me she wants another semester in Germany,” Billy buried his face in his hands. “It’s like she doesn’t want to get married!” Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 