When her birthday cake was placed in front of her and someone said “make a wish, Grandma!” Dolly closed her eyes and thought, okay, here’s the chance to try it.
She rubbed her back right heel on her left toe, crossed her left arthritic index finger over her third finger, took in a deep breath and chanted,
“Now may be the time, time is what we find, find the time that’s right for me. And let me see!”
When I’m reading a book, I become a Beautiful Exile, not made of Blood and Bone and under no Rule of Law. The only Contract I’m under is between me, the author, and the characters who transplant me Through the Evil Days to a place where I can Hope for the Best and become a Dream Daughter of the reading world. Continue reading
“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’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
© Shelley Steinle, illustrator.
A year ago I lost my purr.
At the time, I didn’t think of it that way. I was suffering the side effects of a concussion. All summer long I’d been unable to enjoy the activities that helped me feel fulfilled.
What’s a writer-woman to do? Continue reading
