“Why you so difficult all the time?”
The sun warmed her face. “I ain’t.” She dropped her pack on the platform. The cramps came in waves.
“You stopping?” Jonnie sighed.
She sat on her pack, looked at the floor, tried to ignore the pain. “Believe me. I used to be rich and famous.” Continue reading Stubborn
Moms are magic. I imagine other moms are like mine, the embodiment of magic.
Sunlight stutters through overhanging trees, leaves rustling in the summer breeze. The warmth nurses my arthritic bones.
My siblings and I not only received our lives, but we were shaped and directed by mom’s beliefs, her choices. Who would I be if not for this magic? Certainly not myself, not a writer.
Children play in the park fountain. Happiness nourishes me from peels of unfettered joy.
A squirrel glides and pauses across the lawn. Her gait is blemished, and I realize she is old, like me. Continue reading Legacy
Aunt Lyona’s was an amusement park. Mom dropped them on the way to work. “Now be good little girls,” she said.
“We will,” they chorused.
Lyona’s closet was off-limits. The girls decided to investigate regardless. Continue reading Aunt Lyona’s