Writing about moments that remind me of pleasant things from days gone by.
She took both my hands into hers, looking at them intently before tapping the right one saying, “This one.” Her aged and milky brown eyes traced the lines traveling along my right palm, her fingers gently tracing the life I’ve held there. Finally, finished reading the secrets held in my…
I taught English for many years in what I sometimes refer to as my “old life.” I taught writing to 6th graders who were one-part children and five-parts hormonal whirlwinds. I taught writing to 11th graders who were in a lockdown facility who honestly could not care less about roads…
Oh I do believe there is no other more seductive word in the world than “control”. I love to be in control — of myself, the environment, of situations around me. I need control in order to function. Much of this has to do with my personality. Much has to…
If my life turned out the way I wanted when I was younger I would have been blonde-haired, blue-eyed, big-boobed and pale-skinned like all the other Southern California robots I grew up. I love my brown hair and eyes, and I love my tan that never goes away. As a…
What have I lost? Too much. What am I grieving? Too much. There are times I feel the overwhelming sense of loss fall through me and I can’t catch the tears in a butterfly net. Off they flutter, landing on this memory or touching on that ache in my soul….
The courier font is clean. I appreciate its lines, its control. It looks crisp, like my button-downs fresh from the dry cleaners. The courier is lightly starched and pressed. Precisely how I like my life. My appearance. I like things courier fonted. Ordered. Straightened. Symmetrical. Tucked in. That’s me. Or at least,…
