We all heard the piercing ding at the same time.
Which is saying something, since over 20,000 of us – women of all sizes, shapes, colors, ages – were gathered at Boston’s Charles Street to begin the Women for Health 10K run.
Joanne elbowed me as we stood side-by-side waiting for the starting gun to go off. “Do you see what I see?” she asked, staring down at her phone. Continue reading
Ginny was worried. Not about just one thing, like the fact that her paycheck would not be enough to pay all the bills this month. She was not worried about just two things, like the rumor that her ex was in town.
No, Ginny was worried about more than a dozen things as she rode the bus from her gray non-descript apartment building in the center of the city toward the more glamorous, clean, shiny suburb 40 minutes away. Continue reading
On this dreary day, Thea wrote sitting in the tub, her favorite place for creating stories. Writing allowed her to sink into another world while candles lit the steamy room and bath bubbles glistened.
But Thea’s story was side-tracked when a knock at the front door roused her from the fantasy world she’d created of knights and lasses and a well-spoken dragon. By the second, louder knock, she dried herself off with a towel, grumbling that she could have stayed in the tub another half hour.
The third knock was obnoxiously insistent, so Thea pulled on her jeans and sweatshirt and stomped to the door.
“Yes?” she asked, irritation noticeable in her tone. Continue reading
Debra unties the ribbon around the mysterious box and slowly opens it. Her puzzled look doesn’t leave her face when the side door rams open and two men enter. (https://roughwighting.net/2018/09/28/strangers-in-the-dark/)
“If you want to help your friend,” the stockiest man growls, “empty the box and show us the rest.”
Debra laughs, but not with humor. “Are you kidding me? You must be the agent Eugene told me about last week.”
The man’s face falls as flat as a bad soufflé. “He told you about me?” Continue reading
By Vogler from Wikimedia Commons.
As a tattoo artist, Jilly had met many “unusual” people, but this particular repeat customer was the most unique.
Jilly shivered as the tall lean woman floated through the parlor door and sank immediately into Jilly’s “design” chair.
“Hi!” Jilly greeted with a nervous wave of her hand. Usually blunt and confident, Jilly’s demeanor changed when this client appeared weekly.
Jilly began again: “This is your 13th appointment.” Continue reading
