| Make | NIKON CORPORATION |
| Model | NIKON D810 |
| Exposure | 1/80 |
| Aperture | 4.5 |
| Focal Length | 85.0 mm |
| ISO Speed | 64 |
| Flash | On, Return detected |
| Make | NIKON CORPORATION |
| Model | NIKON D810 |
| Exposure | 1/80 |
| Aperture | 4.5 |
| Focal Length | 85.0 mm |
| ISO Speed | 64 |
| Flash | On, Return detected |
by
The lunatic was not a lunatic previously in his youthful days. He used to be a young, handsome student with a very genial nature and an ever-charming smile always hung on his oval plump face. His eyebrows were so perfectly aligned over his twin eyes that sometimes his...
by
My eyes closed, moments from sleep, I hear a voice. I hold my breath for a moment, my heart racing in protest.
“Bill, is that you?”
Other noises follow. I’m as still as the bed beneath me.
At last I realise it’s from the TV downstairs. I feel...
by
One spring afternoon, you watched the neighbor kids playing with a spotted puppy. They had company so maybe it was theirs. If they brought the dog into your yard, you’d shoo them off.
You certainly didn’t want to raise a puppy. Or a dog to run your...
by
Everyone wore a mask now, but why they did was no longer a question. Those who asked either disappeared or, after a suitable period of re-education, joined their faceless colleagues. The masks kept us free not just from airborne threats to health but from the complexities of signalling...
by
Sarah Jensen works at the county morgue. It’s the only job available, her probation officer tells her. She’s a lousy thief, it seems. Gah, she hates scrubbing stainless steel. She’s the only one in the morgue because her shift is from 4 p.m. to 11 p.m. As she...
by
How horrible the moon. How horrible the pale light it cast upon my grave as it called me to my duty.
In a few short hours I would leave the comfort of my grave to walk among the living. I scared most of them, but now after over...
Read more: How Horrible the Moon
by
Jack pulled the comforter over his head and clamped his hands over his ears, but it did
little to block out his parents’ screaming. If it got any worse, he would hide in his closet.
“I told you I wanted shrimp for dinner,” Amit, Jack’s father, scowled and...
Read more: The Woman in the Mirror
by
"How terrible the moon," Mr. Abrams said each time there was a full moon. "There's sadness with beauty."
At first, when the future Mrs. Abrams met him, she thought it was odd. When he was young, he'd wanted to ride on the back of his older brother's motorcycle...
by
Morgan smiled at the barista taking her cappuccino order. The coffee a small indulgence to celebrate a fantastic day. Two job offers. The gods were smiling on her, finally. She set her purse on the counter, and a rack of keychains beside the cash register tinkled at the...
by
“We love those who know the worst of us and don’t turn their faces away.”
-Walker Percy
Mike Hanlon, an old childhood friend of mine, had cultivated the pot, not for kicks or profit, but expressly for relief. He was a poor and suffering soul growing...
by
Annie had dreamed of her wedding day since she was six years old and received a bride doll. She'd even planned and revised how the day would unfold a hundred times. Her mother had read the notes and lamented how she didn't remember her own wedding. Annie vowed...
by
Oily rags covered her toes and loose leather straps ran around her heels. A hint of blood seemed to darken each step she took through the falling Thanksgiving snow.
“Hav ye ah pence, kind sir?”
A single coin flew through the cold air, and a rag-covered hand suddenly...
Read more: Thanksgiving Thought
by
He recalls an old mill pond. He sees with ease the boy he was, a child smoking while watching the small red and white bobber he has cast out to the edge of the lily pads, hoping mostly for a bass or a pickerel while expecting a perch, ...
by
Jim Keohane drops his razor into the basin of hot soapy water as his body slumps suddenly with the news coming over the radio. Bobby Kennedy was fatally shot at the Ambassador Hotel just after midnight in Los Angeles, just after 3 AM, Eastern Standard Time. Alone, no...
by
Skippy Graycoat woke up early to the chirping of birds. It had been a long night for the young squirrel. He spent hours fixing up his new apartment, a fancy little hollow inside of an old, maple tree, and he was happy to finally have some privacy. No...
by
Clara Beth didn't remember that she'd promised to fill the cast iron bean pot for the Smithville Annual Bean Hole Bean Pot supper until late Friday afternoon when she received the call that the bean hole was prepared, the embers hot and ready. "Almost ready," she lied. What...
Read more: A Pot Full of Beans
by
It’s my boat yard, and I don’t much care for the look of her. It’s a point of pride. You should be able to take a level to a boat up on lumber. Every day with her list, she stares me down. She looks guilty and sad with...
by
He hurts, body, mind, and soul. Death has made its introduction and he has given it a knowing nod. At this moment he’s in a hospice unit. The head of his bed is elevated and he’s in the consoling company of his dog, Emerson. The dog proved quickly...
by
Creating an imaginary garden
with real toads in it.
--Marianne Moore
Frogs circle the yellow-and-black snake in the trout stream by instinct, no less. Mr. Yorick, tall, but roundish, ...
by
The old grand piano sat in lonely corner of the room. Dust covered the piano body, and insects crept in through the keys. For the house’s inhabitants, the grand piano was merely a dead wooden sound-making device mechanically operated. No one ever tried to infuse life into the...
by
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Angelina scoffed at Sam, her husband of sixty years. “You’re not leaving. You won’t last a day without me.”
“I can’t deal with you anymore,” he said as he walked out the door. As if she’d been the one to disappoint, to betray.
Angelina’s sagging...
Read more: How You Can Go Wrong
by
Jake dropped the baby off at daycare early that morning and replaced three water heaters by lunch. There were two HVAC systems left to service, so he wolfed down a sandwich as he drove between jobs. When he got back to the shop that afternoon, his boss called...
by
To all, excepting only Annie, Charles W. Durgin fell while fishing and drowned. It has been nearly ten years since she struck him with his own club, the club he affectionately called “the priest.” Nightmares still waken her upright and screaming. Not the stifled screams into his calloused...
by
It may have been the sultriest day of the decade, who knows, maybe two or even three decades and the excessive humidity had invited swarms of insects. In such a sweltering afternoon people were destined to stay indoors, and if anyone ventured out, the insects would certainly torment...
by
I was amazed by how many people were stuffed inside my uncle Henry’s corpse.
My aunt clung to me for the first time in her life, bird-bone brittle and ashen pale, while the mourners breathed crowds of ghosts into the icy morning air.
The coffin swayed...
by
Each fall, Maine’s monarch butterflies migrate two thousand miles to spend the winter in Mexico. Then the following February, the butterflies begin their trek north. It will take three to five generations—the adult monarchs laying eggs, the caterpillars growing, forming themselves into chrysalises and metamorphizing, and new butterflies...
Read more: Milkweed and Monarchs
by
My love for reading started early. I traveled the world and rode dragons, fought knights, stormed castles, stole treasure with pirates and rescued kidnapped princesses. I floated down rivers in the deepest regions of unexplored lands. I climbed trees and mountains and flew on clouds.
Mom read to...
by
A flock of wild turkeys has wandered in and out of my yard for years. I have a raised deck so my birdfeeders stand ten feet off the ground and the turkeys graze under them. They are timid birds, and typically when I step out onto the deck, ...
Read more: To Thwart a Wild Turkey Hen
by
I joined a writing critique group in the spring of 2019. I wanted to learn how to write both fiction and nonfiction. I was rather confident that I wouldn’t have any problems. How hard could it be after writing business letters and lesson plans for thirty years? Plus, ...
by
What makes a place a home? I grew up on a small farm in Sunnyside, Washington, where my dad raised sheep and my mom took care of the house and yard. For almost twenty-two years I called this place home. But home wasn’t the location, Sunnyside. It was...
by
I must be the Charlie Brown of writers because I’ve never been able to figure out what “style” is all about. What does that word, ‘style,’ mean? I’ve always had a problem with it. If there were such a thing as “styleblindness,” a disease like colorblindness, I’d be...
Read more: The Style of No Style
by
Like the many millions that have come before you, and like the still many millions around you, you may find yourself facing both a troubled past and an uncertain future. Initially and unavoidably, both your past and your future need to be faced concurrently. In so doing, you...
Read more: To All Recovering Wrecks
by
The Corona virus presents new challenges. Stuck at home, and with more of us sleeping, eating and working here, and a dirtier house, I was finally going to have to figure out how to use my new vacuum cleaner. Ordered a year ago, it mostly sat in its...
by
Get up early. You can’t ride all day if you sleep in. Braid your hair tight — you don’t want it flapping in the wind. Make sure you don’t wear the undies with the seams down the back because after a long day of riding they will make...
by
I understand a little bit about wild turkeys. They're on a constant hunt for food, drifting through the neighborhood scrounging what they can. But I don't know how it happens that a few will either be left behind by the flock or leave it. This past fall, I'd...
Read more: Occasional Neighbors
by
Saturday mornings were special occasions at our house when we were growing up. My friends begged to spend the night so they could be part of the Saturday morning ritual.
Mom would take out her green plastic bowl and splash in a little water, a little cocoa powder, ...
by
When I was a child, my mom and Aunt Leona would pack us six kids into our blue Chevy Belair and drive to a local mobile home dealer (they were known as trailers back then). We would walk through the new homes, just for something to do. How...
by
Autumn is falling in Maine, harder this year than I remember over the last few falls. We've had two nights of close to freezing temperatures, not enough to ice over the birdfeeders or kill any of my plants yet, but cold enough to turn the furnace on. My...
by
Every year shortly before spring, the Gurney’s Seed & Nursery Co. catalog shows up on my doorstep. The cover is plastered with a WARNING label in big black letters informing me that if I don’t order now, this will be my last catalog. It also has coupons: $100...
by
Mornings, I like to have a Kindle eBook open on the dining room table so I can read and look out into the backyard to see what might be happening.
I live in a raised ranch with an attached two-car garage. My deck, which is off the kitchen...
Read more: One January Morning
by
A book club I’m part of recently discussed The Ruinsby Scott Smith. It’s not a book I would have finished reading based on the first 50 pages, but sticking with it afforded me insight into what a narrative voice can do. The story is about a group...
Read more: The Ruins and the Writing Technique of Negative Space
by
Go to work every day. Do your job. Do it well. Always learning, getting better every day. Soaking in the letters that become words, that lead to success.
Meetings, instructions, to-do lists, directions — the words start to drown like a river of brown muddy water rushing through...
by
I am twisted, bent, and deformed on every side. Everyone trying to use me to serve their own purposes, to justify their own beliefs and actions. Their eyes constantly sliding away from my pure, unaltered form, too brilliant and painful to behold without their chosen filters to dim...
by
The monarch caterpillar couldn't decide where to turn itself into a chrysalis. He wandered across my front stoop so many times I was afraid I'd step on it so I stopped using the front door. One time, he'd be crawling up a post of the front railing. Another...
Read more: A Monarch Chrysalis
by
I had no idea what milkweed looked like because I'd never seen it, but I'd always wanted it to grow in my yard so I could see the monarch butterflies.
For the longest time, I've hoped the patch of wonderfully fragrant plants with pale purple flowers growing...
Read more: Monarch Butterflies
by
On our homeschool adventure today, we dreamed aloud of the places we would travel to if we could. My kids and I agree: Ireland and Scotland are our top two places to visit. We played music from Spotify and sang aloud to the merry tunes of the Irish.
...
Read more: Canada, Marty, and The Exorcist
by
On a Monday afternoon, I carried a bucket of water outdoors to refill the birdbath. A male goldfinch jumped down from the bath’s rim, and hopped away as quickly as he could to creep beneath a nearby spruce branch. I thought how odd he was...
by
In June, I will expect to find my special place in Townsville, Queensland. Last year it was in Darwin, Northern Territory, and today my place is in Hobart, Tasmania.
We live in a truck, a 2004 Isuzu 350NPR turbo automatic...
by
Another rejection letter and I feel like a loser. Yeah, I know, I’m not trying to make a living doing this. I even claim to be “writing for myself.” Butwe all want validation and, let’s face it, us writers want readers. So here I sit, ...
by
What does a hero look like?
George Bailey is a hero.
George Bailey dreamed of traveling the world.
George Bailey gave up his dreams to care for his family and community.
Rudy left his family...
Read more: Of Heroes and Holiness
by
Lynn’s maple tree
was always the last to emerge
from winter’s sleep,
when it burst into leaf,
the...
by
Free verse on the page that
is my tongue; raw flesh,
smooth and thin, dipped
in blood-tinted ink—
...
Read more: The Scream That Is Also a Song
by
turquoise water of the lake
stretches for miles,
as far as the eye can see
two spruces wave
...
by
My forest dances on the wind, swirling above the green and brown copsewood. Above, branches split, held up...
Read more: Be Leery Of What Falls From Above
by
She went into the woods to find
the wolf that haunted her
She went to the brook to...
by
a grey woodsy coloured house
stands abandoned
in the midst of a haunted wood,
its windows are broken,
...
by
Our very first visitor was a cat.
Corkie came for a day, adopted us.
He soon had his...
Read more: The Moods of McCorquodale
by
I paint with words
I see
the pink tinge of fluffy white clouds
at sunset
I see
my...
by
Vultures gather on the old man’s neighbor’s barn,
‘decorated with ravens and barren trees.
A small cottontail stirs...
Read more: Neighborhood Walk Meditation
by
I shiver in the darkened room,
stretch, try to pull the covers higher,
suddenly I am floating near...
by
So glad it rained last night. Now, late morning, sun shines,
an unexpectedly warm early March. What a...
Read more: A Whitmanesque Inventory: Spring
by
For eons now, the very core of my being
has become inaccessible.
Solitary.
Once it used to be...
by
I’m grateful that I have a daybed
downstairs where I can rest during the day
with my Guinea...
Read more: The Blanket Hugs Me
by
1.
Love is a beast and angel and dream on fire.
2.
Your soul wakes in your dreams.
...
by
…apologies to St. Patrick
Creative Spirit with me,
Creative Spirit before me,
Creative Spirit behind me,
Creative Spirit...
Read more: The Writer’s Breastplate
by
As I rummage through the clothes,
I spot it, the well-worn white sweater
that now had aging spots...
by
We have a large holly tree
in our backyard—
is it foolish to say
you love a tree?
...
by
rain beats against the metal awning.
winds whipped up against two storms
racing each other over the Mississippi
...
Read more: waiting on an email
by
Pushing my walker with the purple
pet carrier propped up on the seat,
I walk down the driveway.
...
by
The roaring, crashing surf summon us.
Soft and damp ecru sand lies beneath our bare soles.
The sun-baked...
by
There is a beetle in the sink.
A big fat one,
shiny and black
with sharp needle...
Read more: The Beetle in the Sink
by
I
the painting of four cats
hangs on my living room wall
II
you can see
Glory Barrie...
Read more: Four Cats – Four Friends
by
I miss the big navels, the big navels when they are not in season,
but almost any orange...
Read more: On Eating an Orange and Seeing God
by
I sit on my deck and enjoy summer sun.
Zephyrs caress my cheeks with soft kisses.
Bombay cat...
by
I find the small black and white picture in a box
of old letters untouched for twenty years.
...
by
I found your heart’s hinge —
I knew it could open!
Inside, I saw all of its broken...
by
Some people fill deep holes in us
the space that’s left when our loved ones leave
they plug...
Read more: Made Whole by Others
by
leaves don orange, crimson and yellow gowns
as they prepare for Cinderella’s autumn ball,
soon the leaves will...
by
Umberto, my Golden Retriever is sad,
Sparkie and Sal, his companions, have died
I wanted to adopt a...
by
Let’s start with Eric—a nerdy-looking kid before
nerds were invented, and only 18 when he crashed
his funny...
Read more: All The Dead I Know
by
She talks of makeovers with friends,
using contour sticks and beauty blenders,
making “Tiktoks” with dance moves
called...
Read more: The Dinosaur Will Get a Makeover
by
I saw it then as my own little Shangri-la,
for I was very small and knew nothing
of...
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
by
