Can You Hear the Suspense?

ChatGPT, man and woman running. As Gregory and I raced our final mile, the sun rose, and I saw the shifting shadow.

“Huh,” I said. Gregory ignored me, outpacing me by a stride and allowing sweat to drop into his hooded brown eyes.

I used to love running this last surge before my body stopped, heart pounding, blood coursing through my veins. I’d pretend I was flying, feet off the ground, hair swinging behind me, legs like a panther.

But with Gregory joining me on these early morning runs now, there was always this competition thing going on. No conversation, no smiles and kisses before we warmed up and began a leisurely mile before the steadier second and third one. Just a serious, straight-ahead, running-is-my-life stride. Continue reading

A Dog’s Best Friend

ChatGPT, rescue dog, I can’t believe what I saw.

Charlie and I sat in his living room. Toto, Charlie‘s dog, a rescue who seemed a mix of German Shepherd and poodle, sat quietly by Charlie’s side.

I knew that Toto‘s presence was beneficial to Charlie, who was deaf with only partial eyesight. Despite this fact, my new friend was loquacious; he talked about dozens of topics with focused intelligence and wit: politics, religion, matters of the Spirit, and the Arts. Continue reading

Carry On Conversation

Carry On, Carry on luggage, blog post, Chat GPTShe stows her carry-on in the overhead compartment, then sits next to the window. Unfortunately, this is not a trip for pleasure. Nor is it for business.

Stacey sits quietly, barely acknowledging the large man who arrives to the middle seat and sits with a “thunk.” Fortunately, she’d clicked on her AirPods even before her seat belt. The soothing sounds of Mozart surround her, helping her swallow the tears that want to explode from her red eyes. Continue reading

Tattoo Trauma

nose, nose with heart, tattoo, grandmother and granddaughterI 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