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
Spraying machine gun bullets lit up the hillside as Zhang dodged behind a rock to protect himself. His foe, the American 49th division, was fighting north of what would be later the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ). He had been drafted as… Continue Reading
After our closing, mail intended for the prior owners continued to arrive. At my wife’s suggestion, we hand printed “return to sender” and dropped the letters in the blue collection box near the Panera. The junk—the flyers, directories, advertisements—we tossed.… Continue Reading
The famous Rikk’s Interstellar Pawn was bustling with activity when Glophous 5 glided through the front doors. Patrons from all over the quadrant milled around, inspecting the shop’s wares. Opulent jewelry sat alongside various trinkets, antiques, and other odds and… Continue Reading