I wrapped picture frames in newspapers without the luxury of running my fingers over the curves of baby cheeks. Putting our house up for sale started with a curious phone call about the supposed uptick in the housing market and has continued with a whirlwind of house projects, phone calls to contractors, and the strange…
Our house is on the market right now. Order reigns supreme. Bookcases are pared down to hold books in uniform colors and coordinated baskets and candles that tie together the colors that weave through our home. The tablecloth and plastic IKEA trays protect the dining room table until it’s time to leave, when those things…
Spring crept in that Thursday, sweaters shed at lunchtime as tired office workers lingered in the park long after lunch hours ticked past. Paint peeled on the bench where she waited, marring the picturesque concept of the shaded oasis with scratched curse words and cigarette burns. She slid her fingers along the layers of paint…
Wax by Phil Duncan brings Yancy Muncy back from the dead, reanimated by the biochemical Easter Oil, the brainchild of Doctors Blankenship and Evergold. A split in the doctors’ partnership has left Blankenship out for revenge and Evergold maniacally maneuvering in his own laboratory, and poor Yancy is caught in the crossfire while he’s still…
Some evenings she dances along the balance beam like it’s four feet wide instead of four inches, laughter in her eyes. Some days she and Dylan play in tandem, bodies moving around each other like water, fitting into spaces that seem too small for their lengthening limbs. But not this Monday. His lion’s roar was…
In the morning, I will lace up my shoes and I will run. My legs will move forward with the knowledge that I will never qualify for the Boston Marathon, but they will move forward. My heart will pound and my breath will catch and my miles will pass, and finish lines will never look…
Reading confession: I’m a classics junkie. Some people may say literature snob as I unfold some of my favorites from my bookshelves: Wuthering Heights (Emily Brontë), Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen), Great Expectations (Charles Dickens), The Lord of the Flies (William Golding), and The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald). Always Gatsby. I temper my potential…
We went for pedicures first, some of us wearing our salon flip flops to the sports bar next door. Appetizers and drinks filled the table, and we welcomed the thunderstorm raging outside because it gave us more time to chat. Voices overlapped up and down the table, more often than not our conversation melting into…
Hours after my Uncle Davis slithered home, I could feel the tendrils of his envy circling the stone fireplace, dark eyes trying not to stare at the faded photograph whose tarnished frame dominated the mantle. The abandoned building was beautifully preserved on the side of a cliff, the stones from the fireplace carefully removed from…
Eraserhead, from David Lynch, is one of the creepiest movies I’ve seen. Early in Stranger Will, my subconscious connected Caleb J. Ross’s noir fiction novel to David Lynch’s film, and a sense of doom and discomfort came along with me for the remainder of my time with the story. William is a cleaner of stains,…
Thank you so much for visiting the place where my dreams live. Follow along as I meld together my love of reading, writing, and the lovely miscellany that makes up my world.
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