“It’s right under your nose! Can’t you tell?” Cindy asks, with obvious impatience.
“Nothing is under my nose nor under anything else on my body. You’re looking for something that’s just not there,” Jennifer replies tartly.
Cindy rolls her eyes. Maybe her still-single friend is still single at the age of 48 because she has no clue how to read the clues. Continue reading
I didn’t think she’d agree to it – my granddaughter. Months earlier I endured facial surgery to remove what we thought was an unexpected birthmark, which instead turned out to be skin cancer.
Originally 16-year-old Sophie told me my ‘birthmark’ was cute. “Looks like a heart, Madre,” she exclaimed, even though it was centered on my nose. After the surgeon removed the “heart” and the cancer was eradicated, I joked with Sophie, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to get a tattoo of a heart – you and me.” Continue reading
If only Mombo had not disappeared. If only the best Nanny I had from babyhood ‘til 14 years of age had stuck around for my high school graduation. For my college graduation. And how about my doctorate celebration?
Of course, my doctorate thesis is “The Disappearance of Octopuses from 2100 to …?” Continue reading
I’m enervated and enthusiastic as I return home after meeting with some of my writing besties for lunch. Ah, the stories we share!
Smiling, I park in the garage, gather my purse and lunch leftovers, and open the door into my home, ready for a hot cuppa tea.
But then I stop as if an anchor is placed on my ankles. Something is wrong, or at least not right. I feel a subtle shift in the house. Yes, a shift.
Occasionally, I get this sensation; after all, a house is not a static object. It’s full of wood and plaster and beams and then walls and ceilings that absorb all the inhabitants’ moods and pains and joys and … I suppose some may think I’m weird. But living space is alive with energetic cells released by each of us. Continue reading
I stumble backwards at the sight of Roger.
How on Earth can Roger – the Roger I’ve known and bantered with and talked to (in my head) for 46 years – be here? In flesh and blood and a smile that could light up a lonely midnight? (See part1 https://roughwighting.net/2024/01/26/honey-im-home/#more-10186) Continue reading
roughwighting 