“I think we need to return,” he whispered in her ear. An ear he knew so well, shell-shaped and as pink as a wish.
“No!” she protested. “We’re safe here. Let’s just roam.”
His smile, small and protective, told her everything she needed to know.
“It’s okay, you know. It’s okay the way things are,” he assured her. Continue reading
I picked her up in the late afternoon.
I was tired and just wanted to go for a walk, start dinner, open a bottle of wine, relax – finally. But my daughter had called me in a panic earlier in the day: “Can you pick up Sophie from Russian math later today? I overbooked with the two boys.”
Being a woman who always wants to be a “good mom” and an even better grandmother, I said yes even before I asked “where?” Continue reading
Pretend that you’re not a shy writer who
Relies on solitude and a radio station with a classical
Orchestra to hear your muse and to
Muse about your characters, like a lonely cat and an Continue reading
“I’ve heard that people pay to do this,” Joe huffs as he bangs on their kitchen wall with a sledgehammer.
His wife, Beth, replies while panting, making her own sledgehammer dents in the wall, “It’s supposed … to ….reduce …. stress.”
Joe stops his arm in mid-hammer and stares at his wife. “Are you stressed?” Continue reading
I hate department stores. I don’t use the word “hate” lightly. The empty vastness of material nothingness; the bright lights spotlighting our greed; the vapid noise of elevator music and high-pitched meaningless laughter.
Thus, when my daughter suggests I go with her and my 11-year-old granddaughter for a girls’ day of shopping, I respond immediately:
“Of course. I’d love to.”
