Following the Ritual Path
It is a ritual for me where I drive each morning to my place of work. Sure it adds about a mile to the trip from the more direct way of getting there, and the…
The Lantern That Didn’t Rise
Maple Hollow had a strange way of forgiving the dark. Every June, the town turned soft around the edges—porches glowing, river water stitched with light, the air smelling like sugar and wet grass. For eleven…
A Love that is Grey
Part 1 My husband likes to plan. His mind is logical and calculated. It is thoughtful and prepared. He time blocks his day, planning everything out, minute by minute, on neatly laid out spreadsheets. It’s…
Burning the Bridges of Madison County
Carol-Anne’s grey, mermaid hair draped over her weathered face as she held me down in my chair. She was comforting yet authoritative, like some kind of militant golden retriever. She tightened my restraints. …
I’m Leaving Too
“You deserve better than this…” he said while praying to the porcelain God, “you don’t deserve to put up with my shit!” As she feebly cleaned the rug from his stomach’s weakness, she wept, she…