My journal of big words and pretty pictures
I feel faded... ...and comfortable, like an old, worn pair of jeans. Knees thin from traipsing through the woods, and crabbing across the beach with my children. My pockets filled with blissful memories - smooth river rocks, pieces of polished driftwood, and pearlescent seashells. I feel like I’ve finally grown into my skin, and it’s fitting in … Continue reading Forever in blue jeans
Whistling in the dark Kept the nightmares at bay. Too scared to venture off the path, Worried what the future held As it all began to fall apart. Wild things lurked in the shadows, Lying in wait, eager for a kill. My vulnerability Made me easy prey To their manipulations. A secret weapon, concealed in … Continue reading Down a crooked path
She imagined that deep inside his chest a tiny transistor battery powered his heart like in her old Zenith radio. The tick-tock of his artificial mechanisms drowned out his rote homilies, his analytical effort to dissuade her. Encased behind dark sunglasses, rational and calculating, he was pragmatic to a fault. As if allowing himself to … Continue reading Behind the curtain
We camped out all day in the resort beach chairs. Commandeering the cabana boy first thing in the morning, just as he was hauling the canvas chaises longues out of the storage hutch, we had our pick of spots on the sugar-fine sand. Hidden beneath our spacious umbrellas, shielded from the blistering sun, we watched sunburnt tourists … Continue reading Waiting in the sun
The tight spiral staircase corkscrewed up from the marble floors. Each riser a chamber in a nautilus shell, compact and uniform. Sound contorted, ricocheting off the ceiling then down again. In her youth, the circling bannister was her playground. Laughter filled the stairwell instead of the angry din she was dodging now. Trying to get … Continue reading A step ahead
“She was just like her mother, sour and rancorous.” Parishioners swarmed old Westfall Cemetery, clearing weeds and dead floral arrangements in observance of Decoration Day. Elders, in white, Sunday-best shirts, sleeves rolled up past their elbows, uprighted toppled stones. The urn, split in half, memorialized the final resting places of mother and daughter, Gertrude and … Continue reading Like mother, like daughter
Thin spiral notebook 