Snow Angel

snowstorm, New England winterI hate winter. I hate snow. I hate cold, I hate ice. I mutter these words as I climb out of my soul-less and hateful car, which has just broken down on Route 2 in the middle of a once-in-a-decade blizzard.

I can’t stay in the car because the engine is dead. Kaput. Lifeless and useless. I’ll freeze if I sit in the silver-metal icebox, so I trudge ahead, looking for some kind of sign of life.

And then I see it. Or her. Or whatever he/she/it/they is. A human-like form of gossamer silver and white, waving towards me. She (for I tend to think of angels as she), is either one-half a mile away, or two yards. With the snow whipping across my face it’s hard to tell. Continue reading

The Potion

  Bluesnap, Pixabay, Halloween potionAll six writers received the invitation on the same day and immediately called each other: “Are you going? Will you bring your ingredient?”

As instructed, not one writer told the other what she was requested to bring.

On Halloween night, a round iron pot sat in the center of the library conference table where the writers met once a week. Joellen splashed in two quarts of Diet Coke. Danielle measured and added a tablespoon of vinegar. Continue reading

Paul in First Class

Pixabay, Paul McCartney, Beatles, first loveI’d been in love with this man since I was 12. But he was inaccessible. The years passed and I fell in love with someone my age – several times. Bruce. Jackson.  Married him. He turned out to not be what he seemed. We divorced. Then I married Derek, a man who was more than he seemed. And he seemed pretty darn wonderful.

So, imagine my surprise when after Derek and I were married for a few years, my brother announced nonchalantly, “It’s amazing how much Derek looks like Paul.”PInterest, Paul McCartney, first love Continue reading

The Specialist

muse, writing, creativity, Pixabay“I’m not sure this is possible,” she says to me in a not altogether nice way. In fact, she’s rather blunt.

“Pleeese?” I plead. “I heard that you’re the best. I wasn’t even sure how to find you. I Googled first, of course, but no answer appeared about how to locate someone with your skills.”

She rolls her large, turquoise eyes. Continue reading

Late for Work

hummingbird, late for workIt all began with the hummingbirds, sir.

Yes, Mr. Grant, I’m serious. I awoke in plenty of time to get to work by 8:30, but as I got out of bed, I heard a noise outside and peered out my window.

No, not my boyfriend’s window. I was home. I have a hummingbird feeder located right outside my bedroom window, and the hummers come every early morning and then at dusk.

I’m trying to tell you what this has to do with the fact that I was two hours late, sir, I am getting to the story.http://sbdcrn.blogspot.com/2013/12/things-not-to-ask-on-job-interview-lou.html Continue reading