“Christmas wishes, Christmas wishes!” It was the cutest elf Amy had ever seen. So lifelike—the way those pointy ears twitched and the face crinkled like real skin as its owner smiled up at her. “I’d love a Christmas wish,” said… Continue Reading
Marky was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. Now wait a minute. There is plenty of doubt. That is just not true. Also, bald-faced plagiarism. Mark Ganner scolded himself for such maudlin and self-centered musings.… Continue Reading
“Bubble double, spoil and rubble.” “Have you got that right, dear?” Bjarnhilda raised her long and warty nose out of the pot she was stirring, just missing its rim. “Of course, I do.” She continued, “Fire burn and caldron bubble.”… Continue Reading
RCS Chat with Jennifer Taylor Rex Overston — Friday, Oct 5 – 8:03 AM Hey Jen, I’m on a call, but text me back—I need to hear about what happened last night with Mary Lou Klinger’s recognition party at Schuler’s… Continue Reading
I pick up a pink, glittery, ceramic bowl, and am reminded of my ex-boyfriend’s hatred of all things sparkling and feminine. If we were still together, purchasing this bowl would have been an act of rebellion. I assumed I would… Continue Reading
AYE MIO AMICO, who could say a train is not the most beautiful class of vehicle? She come this one from the mountains, where still some snow shows on her roof. Step up with me on the bell and compare… Continue Reading
“The Creekside Planning Commission is now open for public comment.” Feeling proud of my civic-mindedness, I stepped up to the microphone. While my topic wasn’t as critical as reducing taxes or preventing crime, it was something I believed deserved attention.… Continue Reading
My date is burly and gruff, a lumberjack squeezed into a French blue polo and wing-tips. He fumbles through the menu with giant hands. A white scar cuts from his left nostril down to his upper lip. He notices me… Continue Reading
It only takes seventeen minutes to realize that lifeguarding was not the career for me. Seventeen minutes. It isn’t the 5:15 AM alarm that did it. Or the gross vacuum I have to hook and drag out of the pool.… Continue Reading
Friday night should have been disco night, but my footballer boyfriend decided it was break up night instead. Saturday morning Cockle picking with Joy. Head bent sifting those white shells from the mud, tears weren’t much use. It didn’t feel… Continue Reading