The artist stands in front of her mirror, contemplating. What does she want the world to see? She mixes her paints, brushes the first lines across the canvas teetering on the easel. She wouldn't normally paint a self portrait. Bangs…
View writingLife is complex, and a riddle impossible to solve…..so we may as well lay back, sleep as much as we want to, and relax in the knowledge that there are some riddles not meant to be solved. I am who…
View writingI didn't think I'd find you by the sea, but here you are. Of course the pungent smell of seaweed would bring you back to me. The sparkling bay, the keening gulls, the bright pink azaleas softly exploding out of…
View writingFinkam was an odd name, half German, half Jew. Fink was easily identifiable as a Jewish name, but Fink also meant finch in German, a common bird in Germany. “My name is like me,” thought Agatha, fingering her golden curls…
View writingThe sky is blue Or, it is not It is grey, white, chrome, black, blue, purple, orange, golden, red It is not blue because of the ocean The ocean couldn’t care less anyway it is green. Or it is nothing.…
View writing[Fiction] She tells him that he would be better off without her. That when they married, she was employed. Successful (on paper, at least), working for a big company with a big title and an ever-expanding paycheck. Back then, she…
View writingTaking this as inspiration to write about deconstruction / conclusion. What we hear in what participants are reacting to, is an externally enforceable, measurable behaviors that are taken as indicators of Christian virtue. A reaction to the industrialized sensibility of…
View writingA 55-year-old woman in Duxbury, Massachusetts in one of the big houses with a rambling garden. As I drive through Duxbury, Massachusetts, I am looking for myself in the people I see. If I were to have another life, would…
View writingThat night Agatha had a dream. Typically, sleep for Agatha was a fall into the fog, shadowy figures, mumbled sentences, confusion. This night was different: her dream was very clear. Ernest was kneeling, his right foot on the ground, right…
View writingBreakfast As soon as he woke up, he knew that something was wrong. It was still dark in the room, very dark, he heard the white noise of the air conditioner/fan that he had on every night but he knew…
View writingIf there’s one true thing I’m learning as I age, and it is a truth I embrace with daily gratitude, it’s this: The purest blessing in life is being able to maintain a healthy innocence in spite of a world…
View writingHe slips into the house party unnoticed, wearing a fedora and a bright pink handkerchief in his suit pocket. He is dressed like the other men. The women's shawls shimmer and champagne glasses seem to float from their upheld arms,…
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