I get up this morning, sunbeams dancing on the trees outside, ravenous birds swarming at the backyard bird feeder, and I look at the toaster and coffeemaker the kitchen counter, side by side, two eyeless chromed sentries, boring and conventional…

[novel continuation!] Ada was singing as she munched on an apple slice lodged in her fist, protruding from between her second and third fingers. The grass crunched as she marched. June smiled and propped herself up on her elbows to…

“LOVE” is possibly the most powerful word in human language. No……correction: it IS languages’ most muscular, weightlifting word because not only does it make the world go ‘ round, it’s a many splendored thing, love is endless, you can’t help…

Room 114. Teachers, on our lunch break. Miss Modd, the Chair of Special Education, and Miss Utterly, her friend, eat lunch & discuss bands they're crazy about. You brush your hair back from your face & look at me across…

[Context: Continuing in Katie’s POV. This field trip to the museum came out of a business proposition Balthasar made to Katie in an earlier section.] A sidelong glance revealed her gambit had succeeded. He was full-on facing the painting. His…

Calling something my best work makes it feel like I don't have best work in my future, and like the other "not named" work isn't best in some other way. I think my narrative feature, THOUSAND PIECES OF GOLD, is…

(This follows on what you read earlier this week.) We walked the maze of pens, examining the cows waiting to be auctioned. The Wagyu were pretty animals, their black and reddish-brown coats shining in the summer sun like they were…

[Context: Picking up Monday's story, but this time from the POV of Katie (Katerina).] Katie had chosen her mark and her shot carefully. Her intent in bringing Balthasar to the museum—in leading him to this chamber, to this specific painting—was…

Never a Bit of A Bother never a bit of a bother never a bother a bit & whoever says you are a bother must be a bit of a twit never, ever a nuisance never, ever a prat &…

Flore pulled the last tissue from the box Amy held out to her. "I can't explain it," she said, "but when I was crying I pictured my mother's face." "I thought you didn't know what she looked like?" Amy replied.…

[Context: I went off-prompt this morning to work on a Substack post.] I’m going to out myself in this post. Buckle up—this one’s raw and vulnerable. But I feel an urge to write on this topic, perhaps because I’m still…

My favorite lyric in the wondrous show that is Les Miserables, is the final line sung in the show and it bears repeating: “…..to love another person is the see the face of God”……and the bright white light of Death…