Where do you stand in a world looking only for exotic names, skins, and avatars? Where do you stand when you're just bland milk with a brain and thoughts that do not fit? It seems to me the world wants bland, uniform innards coated by a colorful shell. It doesn't want bland on the outside … Continue reading Exotic Milk
"I just wanna let you know," she says with a conspiratorial tilt to her head and a serious lift to her brows, "I'm not this person anymore---" She's said it a few times already today, as she's weaved her tales, a mantra perhaps to reassure herself more than those who listen--- Yes, indeed! The person … Continue reading Shining Contradictions
The bathroom is cold, the stalls cramped together. Heather hears the door bang open just as she finishes, and the walls to the stall shake as the newcomer slams herself into the toilet beside Heather’s. Heather frowns as she exits and moves toward the sink. Sniffles echo from the stall that the newcomer has taken. … Continue reading Conversation in a Bathroom
Marie walks up the partially cleared sidewalk out front of the funeral home. It is already dark outside and the lights in the windows glow golden and inviting. She places her cane and tries to straighten her back for her sister’s sake— the one who has passed. A slow trickle of people step up from … Continue reading Conversation Outside a Funeral Parlor
Wayne stands in line at the service desk of his local box store. He bounces from heel to toe as he waits and fidgets with his mask, then remembers he shouldn’t touch it and rests his hand at his side. The lone woman working the service desk chomps gum (perhaps thinking her mask hides it?) … Continue reading Re-Entry
All of a sudden, the gray skies open and lose their payload. Sheets of rain cascade past my windows and strum amidst the pebbles in my driveway. Their chorus floats back to me faintly through the closed window– a throaty song rather like a wide arena filled with applause. But who is it the rain … Continue reading Applause
Robby unearths the small green stone from beneath a tough-packed hump of brown dirt in his backyard. When he brushes the mud from its uneven sides, it sparkles in the sun. “Alien stone,” he says, his eyes lighting up. He spends the afternoon cleaning the gem, wrapping it in wire, and suspending it from a … Continue reading Martian Boy
White rooftops in the morning. Scatter of white across the grass like salt tossed by a careless hand. Why does the sight of something so cold make us feel warm inside? ©️2021 Katie Baker I hope all who celebrated it had a Happy Thanksgiving. It has been a hectic few days for me, and I'm … Continue reading Like Salt
Maybe it’s strange, but I really don’t mind the darker mornings in the fall. There’s something cozy about the dark pressed up against my window panes, and the way it makes the light inside my house seem more golden. I enjoy the extended mornings because in the summer, I’m usually awake as soon as the … Continue reading Maybe It’s Strange
Gordy-- the cranky old caretaker-- squints at the moss-covered, rickety fence that circles Camp Unity. “Eyesore,” he says, snuffing through one nostril. Three dirt-smudged and wild-haired kids stand beside him in various attitudes of attention. The tallest boy with the tamest hair studies the fence with great attention. Its boards are gray and tall-- much … Continue reading Camp Unity’s Fence
Seeking Prose 