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Tag: #life

Shining Contradictions

February 4, 2022February 4, 2022 ~ Katie Baker ~ Leave a comment

"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 Note on the Counter

January 26, 2022January 23, 2022 ~ Katie Baker ~ Leave a comment

He left the note sitting on the island counter top where, by the time she woke up, it had gathered a small pool of sunlight to itself from the window above the sink. The sight of it took her breath away in a sickening whoosh when she stumbled from her bedroom. Dear Cass, it read, … Continue reading The Note on the Counter

Conversation Outside a Funeral Parlor

January 12, 2022January 11, 2022 ~ Katie Baker ~ 4 Comments

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

Re-Entry

January 10, 2022January 9, 2022 ~ Katie Baker ~ Leave a comment

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

My Own Emptiness

January 5, 2022January 5, 2022 ~ Katie Baker ~ Leave a comment

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

Applause

December 22, 2021December 21, 2021 ~ Katie Baker ~ Leave a comment

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

Saying Goodbye

December 13, 2021December 12, 2021 ~ Katie Baker ~ 2 Comments

The boxes stand packed in the entryway like little sentinels at the bottom of the stairs. A hush permeates the house, which is unusual for this house. No one screeches down the hall or thumps up the stairs. No echo of shattering glass trills from the kitchen.  Olivia walks through the rooms one by one, … Continue reading Saying Goodbye

Everything and Nothing

December 3, 2021December 2, 2021 ~ Katie Baker ~ 4 Comments

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

Holiday Madness

November 29, 2021November 29, 2021 ~ Katie Baker ~ 2 Comments

The holiday lines snake around the front of the store. People hesitate in confusion as to where to stand or where to go. The required six feet of space between people casts the queues into confusing tangles. Registers beep. Cart wheels whirr. Almost everyone looks at their toes or adjusts their masks. They scrunch their … Continue reading Holiday Madness

Broken Memory

November 22, 2021November 21, 2021 ~ Katie Baker ~ 4 Comments

Every day he arrives, hooks his cane over the end of her bed, and settles into the chair beside her. He always brings her treats-- candy, flowers, cupcakes, cards written in shaky handwriting she feels obligated to recognize. Some days she sits in a chair by the window; other days her frail limbs are wrapped … Continue reading Broken Memory

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