Search Results for: bobbie wayne

As I drove north along the Hudson River, I reveled in the cool morning air. It would be a beautiful St. Patrick’s Day; a perfect day for my concert at the retirement home, followed by an afternoon appearance on a local tv...

Carol Parry and I crouched in the Becker’s bushes contemplating the crime we were about to commit.

The waiting room was a dingy mustard color. A simple table-lamp cast a sullen glow upon the old chairs along the wall.

She is finally asleep; I can sit in the next room and try to get some writing done. Since she arrived, my priorities have switched entirely. My normally-clean house is chaotic and messy. I can’t find anything.

Small and alone in the dying light, she watches him leave, unaware of the outstretched wings at her back.

The bustier was a metallic phosphorescent blue. “Butterfly wings,” I thought, as I fastened the hooks and eyes which closed the back seam. It fit like a second skin.