She sits on the left hand side of the pulpit mindlessly rummaging through her phone paying bills, making her grocery list and reviewing her ‘friends’ statuses. The sermon is mindless and a repeat from a sermon she heard a week ago. She’s begun to dread ‘Praise and Worship’ which feels more like a cattle call…
Category: Writing
Kitchen Duty
He is running. If I had a speed radar gun I could probably clock him at 10 miles per hour. But I don’t so I’m only guessing. I just know that he’s running and in the next 15 seconds he’s going to hit me at full speed. A smarter woman would move. At least sideways…
Just an Average Day in the Mommyhood
“Mommy I had an accident!” No day goes smoothly that begins with the shriek of those 5 words. “Mommy I had an ACCIDENT!” Lying in bed you pull the covers over your eyes watching the lovely plans for your morning routine go south. You wave goodbye to your well made intentions and rise. Because you…
Concession
In the story line of my life, my father played both hero and villain. His addiction firmly imbedded him with a personality that was duplicitous in nature. To his young daughter who was me it was confusing. So our relationship was complicated and people who were on the outside looking in guessed that perhaps there…
What Kubler Ross Didn’t Teach Me
I am finding it hard to breath. “He went to K-Mart for mousetraps,” she begins. There are 7 children clinging to her. “He’d just finished helping Walter with his science project and he told me he would be right back.” She speaks only slightly above a whisper. Ashen face, shellshocked eyes, she has not slept…
Therapy
“She was 13 years old when this pimp turned her out,” Mrs. Prentiss relays the story in a tone most would use to report the weather. The young woman sits across from her, intent on not sweating or accepting the offered water. “What happened?” She asks. “She was fas’…hot really…’ her shoulders collapse. Mrs. Prentiss…
i do haiku
on the day I was married 1,082 died in Nigeria.
Vignette I: A Blues
“Well its obvious you’re going to do what you want to do anyway,” she hissed. Still thinking of dancing he is confused, wondering how a simple request has gone so wrong. She stares at him coldly. Feeling panic he reaches for her humming, ‘dance with me.’ His mind preoccupied with moving. Her furrowed brow slowly…
Creative Angst…Beware?
This blog is a personal sojourn through my own creative angst. I want very much to awaken from the self-induced creative coma I have placed my muse in for the last decade. I am ready to rejoin the world as writer. This blog is my roadmap back. To jump start my creative mojo, I’ve challenged…
fearfree living 