When the mirror broke, Gwen figured she was a goner. Overdramatic, perhaps, but at 88 years old, Gwen knew her time would be up soon.
fiction
One Bent Ear
I peer down at Hank as I pet the top of his soft brown head while wondering, why had I never noticed this anomaly before? Continue reading
Carrots and a Cat = Destiny
Denise had two things on her mind: carrots and Carl.
Carl loved carrots. Carl hadn’t talked to Denise in two weeks, three days, and 14 hours, and the only thing on Denise’s mind was to bake a carrot cake that would make Carl come back to her. Continue reading
Last Request
“In fact, if you could forget mortality, and that is less easy here than in most places . . . you could really believe that stories change you, enliven you, even send you off: off to a different world; off from your troubles and problems; off to a place where you don’t feel your age, or arthritic pain, or the devil chasing you from behind.”
“Okay, Granny, okay!” I interrupt, “I believe you!” My Great Gran, 94 years old, or as she says, 94 and ½ friggin’ years, begins this lecture to me almost every time I visit her.
READ-Y
When Julie opened the cover of the ancient book in the attic, the first page glowed opal, and letters began to float off the page, circling her like fairy dust. (Part I, The Ancient Book)
Julie should have been afraid, closed the book, and raced down the narrow ladder, quickly closing that attic ceiling door.
But instead her body relaxed as dozens of those letters surrounded her and buzzed like happy bees. The sweet soft buzzzzzz turned to whisperings from Spirits long gone and still here. Continue reading
roughwighting 