Tag: fiction
member name: Kathryn E.
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March 10, 2009 07:06 AM EDT --
The hospital gave every appearance of being hospitable to patients. As I gazed at the pastel paintings of cut flowers that lined the hospital walls, a young nurse with a well-scrubbed face and . . .
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March 20, 2009 12:06 AM EDT --
Mary rolls her trash down the driveway alone now that Nolo has died; decades of Saturday night dancing, summer swims and afternoon tennis are behind her; these days, ladies come to lunch or she flies . . .
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June 17, 2008 06:06 AM EDT --
Mary rolls her trash down the driveway alone now that Nolo has died; decades of Saturday night dancing, summer swims and afternoon tennis are behind her; these days, ladies come to lunch or . . .
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May 29, 2008 07:00 PM EDT --
The Goslings
I waited weeks for them,
I waited by the willow as it wept for winter's last hurrah,
I waited by the pond as ripples spread near the edge,
I waited under the footbridge, . . .
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March 27, 2009 02:25 AM EDT --
Lizzie looked at the inscription scrawled across the top of her left hand, "Dancing as fast as I can, " then at the inscription on her right hand: "the wolf is never far from the door." . . .
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August 04, 2007 05:13 AM EDT --
It happened the summer I found the rabbit lying in the road, hit by a car, legs broken, he couldn't be saved. Yet I had to try. I knew the marriage couldn't be saved, yet I had to try.
. . .
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March 26, 2009 01:19 PM EDT --
Celia prodded her husband, Malcolm, to lay out food the caterers brought.
"Malcolm, please use the refrigerated tray for the cole slaw and potato salad, oh - and please do bring the beer cooler. . . .
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March 15, 2008 05:01 PM EDT --
MaryBeth tugged at the rip in her father's tattered denim jacket and remembered the last time she wore it - it was a year before her father died, when she wore a sailor's cap and blue . . .
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March 20, 2008 02:59 AM EDT --
There's so much to say - yet, so little we've said.
We do not talk, you and I. There's a hush, a chill that surrounds the air we breathe. Sometimes I see it . . .
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March 21, 2008 05:23 PM EDT --
It happened the summer I found the rabbit lying in the road, hit by a car, his legs broken. He couldn't be saved, yet I had to try.
It was then I knew the marriage couldn't be saved, . . .
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March 22, 2008 09:58 AM EDT --
Just when I need you all so damn much.
I'm soldiering on as best I can, taking care of the children, the house, bills, work.
Mother's off her meds again; . . .
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March 24, 2008 05:13 PM EDT --
The refrigerator hums along in middle C.
As I was slicing an onion, I cut myself; my blood oozed and became a rivulet; the juice ran to the cut like maggots debriding a wound.
. . .
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April 06, 2008 09:53 AM EDT --
In my attic, beyond the cobwebs and ancient tapestries, past the gunmetal grey filing cabinets that line the walls, is a room of my own. It is where I write. It is not a writing shed, though that . . .
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April 14, 2008 05:18 PM EDT --
In my attic, beyond cobwebs and ancient tapestries, past gunmetal grey filing cabinets that line the walls, is a room of my own. It is where I write. It is not a writing shed, though that would . . .
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July 01, 2008 12:16 PM EDT --
The shiny blue van in front of Mrs. Bradley's house leaves when we leave. Are they following us, and, if they are, why do they bother? To follow us to the ice cream store or the grocery? . . .
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October 04, 2008 10:45 AM EDT --
The night before I went back to Maine we spent in your apartment in Evansville, lying together, naked, being. It was sensual and not sensual. I would soon be married and you would be off to . . .
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October 06, 2008 12:02 AM EDT --
Sunday, 8 a.m. Drank whey powder, amino acid supplements, Green Tea power drink. Powerlifted at club, mega treadmill workout, 30 wind sprints on the track. 2 hours. Sunny but windy.
Smiled . . .
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April 15, 2007 07:23 PM EDT --
Michael sent a telegram today: Mom, bad news. Stopped at border for open container and pot. Stop. Friend not US citizen. Sent back to US. Stop. I'm not in the PH D. program, I lied. Stop. . . .
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July 07, 2007 01:06 PM EDT --
The shiny blue van in front of Mrs. Bradley's house leaves when we leave. Are they following us, and, if they are, why do they bother? To follow us to the ice cream store or the grocery? I'm flattered . . .
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August 02, 2007 05:01 PM EDT --
There's so much to say; yet, so little we've said.
We do not talk, you and I. There's that hush, the chill that surrounds the air we breathe. It used to be different, so very long ago. . . .
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