The crime of being ourselves Agatha watched as a nun came and bundled John away. The tears in her eyes feel freely. She had no hanky, and the snot ran down her face too. The nun next to her was…

When I was growing up and being taught something called “American History” in school, I thought the Pilgrims came over in the Middle Ages, the Revolutionary War maybe a little later, the Civil War something that happened literally ages ago.…

Drowning with fear Some believe we swim to stop from drowning. I remember when I first felt that pang as my legs danced in a tango below me. When my breath chilled by the water's embrace. Got caught in my…

Not walking or even standing, If I don’t feel like it, Snuggled in my perfect chair By the windows overlooking The Bay….. Part of the landscaped portrait, One with the graceful gulls, Partnering particular pigeons, As I watch their patterns,…

When I grab my mother's black clutch purse, it tips and everything falls out: a book of matches from a wedding 50 years ago, a tarnished gold lipstick case, ticket stubs, chapstick, leather winter gloves, and a condom.

Most long time residents of Swall Island had a private generator of sorts, or have a neighbor who has one. They range in trustworthiness from the home-made type with big batteries and some sketchy wiring to full survivalist post nuclear…

Not long ago, my elderly mother told me a story I had never heard – about the time she tried to persuade my father to kidnap me. He was worried, but she was worried sick, because I had quit my…

More show journal writing , especially for my gifted partner this week: New York City Monday, February 18, 1985 Rehearsals loom: WE start on Monday, the 25th! And we will be working at a place that has become like a…

Agatha imagined that from the home in Berlin you could smell the ashes of the Reichstag. Both Bella and Sara would have seen the flames and would have heard the firefighters struggle to save what was left of German freedom.…

This afternoon at book club we tried not to discuss the elephant in the room, the fact that we are slipping, or rather hurtling towards totalitarian rule under the stubby little thumbs of a complete and utter nincompoop. I’m trying…

The first time I saw this dog, she looked so much like Fletcher, our dear departed dog, I cried. That's all I saw. I didn't think the way she barked hysterically when I took her into a fenced in area…

We too often live our lives in denial. I am writing for my life now. If there is an actual book in me, it’s what I’m discovering- UNcovering -about my 77 years of life. New York City ( en route…