The Other Kids

My mother used to walk to school when she was in elementary. I would never let my kids do that, not these days, but her mom thought it was safe. At first. My mom didn’t let me walk to school, either, but for completely different reasons. I asked her why, in elementary school, and all … Continue reading The Other Kids →

Painting

“Sylvia?” “Just a minute. I’m almost at a place where I can stop.” “Okay, well, I’m ready to go.” “Oh.” “Tom and Corey are waiting.” “I know. I just... I feel like if I leave now, I’m going to lose my rhythm.” “We told them we’d be there ten minutes ago. We’re already late.” “We … Continue reading Painting →

A Good Day

On April 28th, 2017, Jerry Wilkinson had a good day. This may sound insignificant, but to him, it was not. It was the first time he remembered having and actual good day in a least seven years. Jerry did not think of himself as an unhappy man, but he was not a happy one. When … Continue reading A Good Day →

To Be Happy

This is Callan’s house, and Niall does not live here, but by the way Niall commits himself to washing the dishes, you would not guess it. There is silence between the two for now, though Niall’s stiff, straight back and the angry vigor with which he scrubs the dishes, when paired with the defeated … Continue reading To Be Happy →

Becoming, Part XII

First Entry: Becoming, Part I Latest Entry: Becoming, Part XI The humans removed me from the village. Perhaps this should not have surprised me, but it did, at the time. Rystala stormed off after my proclamation, but I simply sat and waited for her, expecting that, as this was her home, she would be forced to return … Continue reading Becoming, Part XII →

Time Wasted

Yesterday, I sat down to each lunch after I finished writing for today. Today, I realized that I never came back and posted what I had written! Oops! Here's yesterday's post. From the fourth grade onward — or perhaps from a bit earlier than that; her younger years tended to blur together in her memory … Continue reading Time Wasted →

A Second Excerpt from “Letters”

I chose to spend this morning working on a project I call "Letters," from which I've previously posted one excerpt. Here's a second excerpt from it as today's post. Birch was gone when Tomás awoke, as Tomás had expected. Tomás was thankful. He was incredibly sweaty, for one, having spent the night wrapped up in … Continue reading A Second Excerpt from “Letters” →

The Memory of Her Scent

The sweet smell of her hair fills his nose as he lays in bed at night. He breathes it in deep, savoring every molecule of it. It is the scent of peace and contentment. It lulls him deep into sleep, where for a few hours, he stops existing. The soft touch of her hand, fingers … Continue reading The Memory of Her Scent →

Newborn

I was thinking about the character on this one and how I wanted to write a story about what she became later in life, but somehow along the way I lost the actual story I meant to write. It ended up having little in the way of "story" at all, and it's more just like … Continue reading Newborn →

Not Quite So Bad

“You have got to stop lying so much.” They are at the dinner table, but there is no dinner. Chelsea was supposed to make it. She has her hand resting on a fist. Her eyes are half-closed and directed outside so that it is clear she doesn’t want to be listening to Tara. Tara’s eyes, … Continue reading Not Quite So Bad →