My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Looking back, Widow Winslow wasn’t a very convincing recluse. She’d only come into town Saturday mornings when she’d drive her 1955 Ford Fairlane to the Farmer’s Market where she rarely spoke to anyone other than to ask Satchel Brewster about his heirloom tomatoes or haggle with Natty Crowe for some of his sourdough buns. Sometimes … Continue reading Looking back
With hammer and chisel, ancient masters chipped away jagged shards of stone bringing forth images of man and woman so lifelike that had they opened their eyes and breathed it would have been evidence of their holy birth. Arduous and time-consuming, sculpting of old was not an efficacious method of artistic expression. In the modern … Continue reading Muses’ revenge
Alone on a Sunday night after a long day at the beach, I can still taste salt on my lips, and feel his warm hands on my skin. Too distracted to sleep, my emotions come in tumultuous waves of contradictions. At once drowning in regret over a shipwrecked affair, then grasping for the new lifeline … Continue reading Eye of the storm
The once bright yellow rocking horse seat was all that remained of the playground. Lyle was surprised the useless relic, battered and worn from use and disuse, wasn’t ripped out of the ground when the rest of the park was razed. It was cruel if left as a backhanded memorial for the kids who disappeared, Lyle … Continue reading Playground relic
The first grumblings woke her at 5:23:17 a.m. Liv knew the precise time because those were the numbers staring back at her when she opened her left eye long enough to see the blurry, neon green numbers on her bedside clock. It was only her left eye because her right was blocked by the grey … Continue reading Keeping the dogs at bay
Composing slam poetry while huddled around a burning trash can for warmth on a frigid winter night, a gang of gamins - distinguished by their customary street uniforms of oversized denim jeans slung low on bony hips and Crooks & Castle hoodies, the too long sleeves pushed up passed ashy elbows - stood apart from a … Continue reading A run-on slam
Thin spiral notebook 