Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
Three days. It had been three days since they delivered the box. Technically, three days, four hours, and 37 minutes. But who’s counting. She knew he was there. The gate squeaked. It had been over two weeks since he’d left. Technically 15 days, three hours, and 22 minutes. But who’s counting. Or 14 days, 21… Continue reading Who’s Counting
“If only there were more.” “More what Aunt Karen?” Glaring out the window, she pressed record before declaring “More people like me. Patriotic citizens. People who care about what’s happening to this country.” “He’s just cleaning the windows. Why are you recording him?” I hadn’t seen her in years but I steeled myself for the… Continue reading Karen v. Karen
Today, Fandango asks us to consider whether we think it’s premature for states to be lifting the stay-at-home, shelter-in-place, and social distancing restrictions? Or do you believe that it’s about time they were rescinded? Once they are removed, how quickly are you likely to resume living your life as you did in the pre-pandemic days?… Continue reading Is that wallpaper moving or have murder hornets invaded (my mind)?!
tune it out and still the chatter just for today Author's Photo Thanks to Sammi for her 10 word challenge using the word "tune." Trying to take my own advice today! 🙂
The view looked like some kind of soulless painting. Beautiful but no signs of life. She used to know the names for artistic stuff like that. Photorealistic, maybe? Hell. It was all apocalyptic now. Unexpectedly, tears blurred her vision. She thought her grief had run its course but seeing those empty chairs. So expectant. So… Continue reading after now
Seeking continuity during this crisis, Sue was determined to continue to “dress for success.” This madness lasted only until she discovered the true joy of not wearing a bra. Now, success has a new meaning. Thanks to Sammi's Scribbles for the challenge to write about "continuity" in 35 words.
“That’s effing awesome!” “Language.” “But ma. The diner car is up in the air.” Resisting the temptation to go easy, she suppressed a smile. “Don’t ‘but ma’ me young man. I’m tired and you know your dad doesn’t have any patience for your stories. Get your book. It’s math time.” “But ma!” “No buts!… Continue reading Day Three
reverie broken memories wet on my cheek a dream in a tear Thanks to Putting My Feet in the Dirt and to Fandango for two great ideas that worked perfectly together. Check out their sites for great writing and the rules of the game.
Today, I offer a “tongue in cheek” look behind the scenes of my budding career as a sculptor.* “Is that your first sculpture?” He asked. That’s a bit of a cheeky question, I thought before replying: “Yes. Hard to believe, isn’t it? It’s so life-like. And look at those cheek bones!” “Erm … yes. They… Continue reading Great Cheeks!
Apparently this was it: the prison’s law library. One row of ancient books on a rickety cart. Was that smell despair or just mildew? Probably mildew. The stink of despair was coming from—as they say—inside the house. Did they still call it the Big House? Or was that passé? She much preferred that to slammer… Continue reading The Big House
