Spring is late, delayed by a blizzard that left two feet of soggy snow, making my front stair’s existence a Schrödinger’s cat. When late April sun emerged, so did we.
short
Missing Winter
Outside my window is a dour study in black and gray and soggy white. No wind, no blue sky, even the evergreens are evergray. Twenty degrees below what we’re supposed to have in April, Continue reading
Spring Seeker
“Where is it?” she lifted her face, seeking a clue in the morning breeze. So many possibilities; the winter had been too long. She clawed at the ground furiously, dirt embedding itself under her nails. Continue reading
Lotta at 22
Lotta Du Charms relished the feel of canvas around her legs, leather and horseflesh between her thighs. Continue reading
Decaf to Follow
In the sepulchral half-light, behind a fortress of tall paper stacks, the crackling tapping endures: Fast, slow, shuffle, sudden dry slap. Continue reading
A Frosty Farewell
The fog and sleet haven’t let up since we departed Per’s Point. This far north, the sun is never more than a few inches off the horizon, for a few hours at a time. Had we chosen Midsummer, we’d have had near 24-hour sun. Continue reading
Blank, Blank, Energy Breakthrough
The room sits at low-tide. Eddies twirl sluggish through muddy gray waters. Slow eyelids blink, sleepy frogs gathered ‘round in a circle. We hope that gathering and moving pen across paper will stir enough energy in this morning’s free-association writing group to stir those eddies into rivulets of free-flowing inspiration. Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 