Joan strolled around the tropical complex on a soft evening dotted above with stars.
Her trip to this island had been everything she hoped for on a solitary October vacation, escaping a stress-filled job, worrisome aging parents, and a soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. The days melted into each other as she strolled for hours on secluded beaches, sat at the ocean-view bar and slowly savored pink-umbrella drinks, avoiding the curious glances of those with family or lovers. Continue reading
Almost surreal, the rain continued even as the sun peeked out like a shy little girl. Buttoning up my rain coat, I left the safety of my front door and raced toward the car.
“Can’t you see where you’re going?” a tiny voice asked.
Darn, I tripped over something that seemed more stump than human, yet whatever it was had chastised me! Earnestly looking around for the victim of my haste, I felt a tug at the bottom of my jeans. Continue reading
All 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
I consider taking a walk, but then I remember I need my crutches.
Not that I need the crutches. My leg is fine now. The break was clean; the cast inconvenient but a nice attention getter; the crutches cumbersome and ugly.
I would have liked to have thrown the tall rigid walking implements into the trash. Or at least recycled them for some other poor soul to use.
But, sagely, I left my un-needed crutches standing in the foyer, by the front door.
For just this kind of day. . . Continue reading