When I was a child, I was fascinated by abandoned things. Houses, roads, plots of land, store fronts— whole towns. It didn’t matter. My imagination exploded whenever I came across the empty, the broken-down or the grown over. To this day, vivid memories— like snapshots— live on in the back shelves of my brain: a … Continue reading The Fault Lines of Nostalgia
The sky hangs low and gray. Raindrops sputter down— an intermittent mist. In Geneva, there is a one-way street in the middle of town. It is crisscrossed above by strings of bulbous lights, and as the gray sky descends toward brooding charcoal twilight, the bulbs flash on, merry and yellow. The street is lined by … Continue reading Next Time
The daffodils shiver in agreement.
I had forgotten how differently paced life is when you must go into the office to work. From the moment you wake up, you feel as if you cannot catch your breath. Is there enough time to get my run in? ... Did I remember to lay out all of my clothes last night?... Meal … Continue reading The Return
January cold has come to roost here in the North. It makes everything so much more complicated. Just to step outside and scatter ice melt on my frozen driveway takes about forty-five minutes of preparation and just as many layers of clothing. My mornings runs become afternoon runs because of a negative wind chill factor, … Continue reading That Perfect Something
A cold November day floats flakes of flurries on its cutting breeze. A wide table in a sun-bright room is stacked with papers at its head. We file in, five of us: the closing agent, the officer from the bank, my real estate agent, and the buyer’s agent. My attorney flicks through the pages waiting … Continue reading My Own Emptiness
Wishes die slowly, fighting with every kick and punch and gasp. But wishes– dreams– are fanciful things made most of midnight talks and music full of empty drums and open spaces. Dreams are born of a lonely heart, twenty-two years too long, and hope like a prune. Loneliness is the twin to dreams. It is … Continue reading Two Sides of a Coin
I keep expecting things to shatter. I pick up my French press, the dishwater drips, suds slip down its sides. I think: the noise this thing will make if I drop it… I can almost feel the shards bounce around my toes, crystal and sharp, winking in the light. I can hear the smash, the … Continue reading They Break so Easily
I sit at my computer biting my nails. It's a bad habit I fall into when I'm highly anxious. I scroll through the screen reading submission guidelines and articles in Literary Journals and magazines. What is it about reading other people's work that makes one feel inadequate? I stare at the glossy photos of the … Continue reading Impostor Syndrome
The downy quilt of winter has returned. Front yards spill white toward the dark, wet slash of the street. Garlands festoon the front of my neighbors' houses. I've decorated for Christmas myself, and I find life settling into that familiar hectic holiday pace. When to write! The snatched moments come between car rides and family … Continue reading Everything and Nothing
Seeking Prose 