There she is. . . The one who loves too hard, feels too deeply, asks too often, desires too much. There she is taking up too much space, with her laughter, her curves, her honesty. Her presence is as tall as a tree, as wide as a mountain. Her energy occupies every crevice of theContinue reading “Ask. Seek. Desire. Expand. Move. Feel. Be.”
Tag Archives: creative writing
At Last
Sam walked down the long green entryway to her grandmother’s door gazing at the new orchids blooming in the courtyard. Her eyes wandered up into the mango tree and she wondered when the fruit would start to weigh heavy on the branches. The year before they had come in April, unseasonably early, almost two monthsContinue reading “At Last”
A Second Chance
Jamal slammed his car door shut. He looked down through the tinted window at the resume sitting on the seat and shook his head. He kicked his tire and regretted it as he walked heavily up the stairs to his apartment, the pounding in his head now matched by the throbbing in his toe. HeContinue reading “A Second Chance”
Acquitted, Evicted, Conflicted.
“Go,” Chris insisted to an audience that couldn’t hear him. His right hand fumbled blindly around the deep center console of his 1989 Bronco. It hit upon its target and he slipped a Marlboro Mild between his lips, pressed the old knob of the cigarette lighter in, and met the eyes of the womanContinue reading “Acquitted, Evicted, Conflicted.”
Being naked.
“So,” says the darling person genuinely interested in my life, “what have you been up to?” “Well,” I start, looking to whatever person or book I happen to be in public with for support, “I just finished editing my novel.” And in that time, before they process how to answer this statement, I wonder: doContinue reading “Being naked.”
The Old Head of Kinsale
It was dark when we arrived. The lights of the city stretched farther than I had expected. Traffic was bad, but not as bad as it had been in Dublin. John took the first parking spot he saw and we headed into the Pub across the street. There was some sort of meeting going onContinue reading “The Old Head of Kinsale”
The Comfort of the King
The road stretches out before me unwavering, like the heat. The little brown camper that we’ve called home since the start of our month-long trek across India moseys along crookedly, leaning always away. Dried up ditches frame the road and I imagine them as gushing rivers in the wet season. Beyond the dusty windshield, theContinue reading “The Comfort of the King”
Bodie, California
Gracie dug through her purse looking for a hammer. She pulled out a 45 of the Beatles single “Love Me Do”, then emptied the other contents of her bag: her journal, a broken brush, a long since finished tube of lipstick, and a wallet with nothing in it but a two dollar bill. She turnedContinue reading “Bodie, California”
Beseeched
“No,” the little girl said simply, “I will not go.” “But Sara,” her mother pleaded, “you must come to Church with us.” Sara looked plainly at her. “God knows I’m a good little girl,” she said full of purpose, “so you don’t need to pray for me anymore.” “I don’t know what to do withContinue reading “Beseeched”
The Old Man That He Sees
He wakes. His feet touch the cool stone floor. He ignores his weathered reflection, rinses his hands, and splashes water on his face. The sticky dawn drifts through the seaward window. He sees the fog and the distant orange circle muted above the horizon. He turns back to the looking glass. You will catch a bigContinue reading “The Old Man That He Sees”