Author: admin

If I happened to be visiting Mom on laundry day, I would carry the basket of wet clothes outside and hang them on the line for her. On this particular day in mid-June, blazingly bright sun revealed rust on the lines, rust...

My sleep is tenuous, thin as impossibility, so I lumber from bed, balance footing, fumble into the dining room, and slump into my recliner. I don’t turn on a lamp. Dark enfolds me the way I need to be held at 5:40 a m.,...

An unexpected occurrence happened when I was in the sixth grade at Reeb Avenue Elementary School. The Bell had rung to begin class, and we students, seated and waiting, expected our teacher to appear any second as usual....

Yet, it keeps resurfacing in various ways, our love, our hammered love, inching up for years. I’ve tried not to adore her deeply, to quit her, but I’ve failed. My slobbering heart holds right a fire of flattery, blood pressure...

In the world of my childhood Mother was not there. The doctors said unexplainable things rattled in her mind, so they took her away to a hospital, an institution determined to reconstruct the sticks and stones, the shields and...

Windowpane and bird collide. It’s not quite that particular thud. More a rock hitting mud. More your gaze shifting past my love.   Kelli Logan Rush lives in Winston-Salem, N.C., where she used to write for the tobacco...

  Go ahead, then. You go live in a decrepit turret. Buy a cabochon-encrusted comb and a $50 boar-hair brush. Coif a lot and bang a drum, eat loaves and plums and call yourself Allegra Folaam, glide around in pleated chiffon...

Unsettled, we described him, cousin Sam fresh out of Vietnam. He shucked his uniform, disparaged military obligation, swore he’d never again be obliged. Soon took off for parts unknown, no cards, no calls. He passed through...

I can tell by the pink tinge of sun washing my bedroom window bird shadows flitting through the lace curtains the joyful yaps of dogs leaping into cold morning air the smell of brewing coffee drifting lazily on warm house...

She speaks of her dead father, says he hovers about all night making sure her pills work, her door is bolted, the breakfast table is set. He’s big on details, reminders, notes she posted on the ‘fridge and swears she would...

I foist myself along the beach one step at a time gently disturbing the sand grains of time searching for Petoskeys my footprints washed away by the tide impermanently perfect   Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she...

crystal clear memories of childhood snowstorm decades ago trapped in our house drifts of snow taller than him he hatched a plan removing the storm-door glass panel he shoveled a tunnel out through the empty space he became our...