Watching from the bench. . .g
The pier is packed. Spectators six deep watch the finals of the Vans US Open of Surfing below. I wedge myself into the crowd trying to…
Making it last . . .
Love is in the air . . . well not for me, but I’m certainly surrounded by it lately. A few weeks ago I sat under…
Mementos . . .
Barefoot, I step on the wooden bead. I grab my foot and rub out the pain in my arch. A few days ago the elastic in…
Hiding in plain sight . . .
We gather around the dining room table, our small, intimate writers group. Sipping tea and coffee, and snacking on popcorn, each of us takes a turn…
Detours . . .
Bedding and sheets lay neatly folded in cardboard boxes in the corner of the guest room. Gigantic plastic bags stuffed full with new pillows are piled…
February 1st . . .
My eyelids flutter as sunshine comes into my room. I slowly open them, happy to see a break in the rain. Stretching I reach for my…
Take the time to pause . . .
Lifting weights and pushing through the last of my sit-ups, I wrap up my morning workout. I find it easy to maintain a healthy lifestyle, I…
Still amazing . . .
Unable to sleep, I lay awake and think about him. I don’t want to, but I do. Instead of letting those thoughts float away, I cling…
Home . . .
I slide the window shade up a few inches, careful not to let too much light into the airplane. We are pretending it’s nighttime as we…
Write, edit, rinse, repeat . . .
Tap, tap, tapping away on my keyboard, reading and rereading chapters, my eyes burn. I understand now why other writers have said that editing a story…
