After November’s NaBloPoMo, I announced grandiose plans to write more, share more personal stories, and continue Works in Progress… ask me how that’s going. In December, I’ve posted once. Of course, I challenged myself during holiday season when I have nothing else to do, like knee surgery rehab. (That’s going very well, thanks for asking). … Continue reading Best intentions
More from the Dinner Party... “Her mother and father were frighteningly zealous in their dysfunctional child rearing.” Jasper reported back to his employer on his reconnoiter of their newest wish recipient, Ada Mercer, who asked to meet Santa. “So the fulfillment of her wish is to convince her that the Jolly ol’ Elf is fictitious?” … Continue reading You better be good
“I didn’t expect the decision to be so difficult,” Augustine shuffled through a stack of index cards “It’s a dilemma that would vex Solomon,” Jasper continued to polish the silver without looking up. He held up a serving spoon, only satisfied with his efforts when he could see his reflection in the bowl. Augustine cast … Continue reading Pick a card
“I don’t want any trouble.” He had a lean, hangdog look about him. His overgrown beard hide his face, but his eyes, unexpectedly clear, held an unquenchable fire. Pulling his fists from the pockets of his old, military field jacket, he showed empty hands to the men barring his way. “Just let me go on … Continue reading Hangdog
It had rained the night before and all the world looked like it had been bedazzled with a million Swarovski crystals. The sweet petrichor of the last evening’s shower was heady to the point of distraction. As I walked around the shoreline, dewdrops clung to my coat embellishing my unadorned clothing with their iridescent brilliance. … Continue reading An unlikely tale
The dowager queen was feeling her age. The colder nights settled as a weary ache in her old bones. With every step, a shiver of pain wracked her body. Though she vehemently protested her chamberlain’s insistence a litter carry her through town, the queen secretly reveled in the opulence of the handcrafted leather conveyance and … Continue reading Feast Day
I kept going to the river to pray. I’d kneel at the water’s edge to wash my hands, or I’d wade knee-deep into the cold, rushing current until it would eddy around my legs. It was never enough to clean away my guilt and shame. Like my southern Baptist gramma used to say, “a little … Continue reading At the water’s edge
