Creativity is a grand thing.

We tend to lump it in with the arts but creativity is greater than this. I think of it as ingenuity’s younger brother having fun. Pushing bounds, exploring ideas, finding solutions can all fall under creativity’s umbrella. We see it everywhere and sometimes don’t even notice. Extreme sports. Wild haircuts. Couture. Even nature gets into the act.   Sure, I marvel at bursts of verse – especially my own. It seems so unexpected, that moment caught on paper: the sentence, paragraph, page, and then if you are lucky – the chapter that rings with its own pulse and you think, ‘how did that get here?’ or my Continue Reading →

100 on Old Clothes

Old socks, comfortably worn with threadbare jeans. The favorite shirt, stained and faded, hiding the bra that refuses to die with the poked out underwire. Too soft, too well worn, like part of my skin sown inside out with red thread. Stretched out elastic, tiny holes, unraveling strings, popped buttons, weaved cotton, rayon, polyester blend, frayed and abraded from contact sports and sliding seats. The snagged silk, dry-clean only. The hand wash fiasco, dry flat sweater, shrinking and warping with each go round in washer and dryer. All, beloved items yet the closet is full, it needs to be purged.

100 on Birthday Wishes

I’d wish for you a sea of blue, the color remembered in your dreams. I’d wish for you a shore of endless sand – your home land. I’d wish your sorrows away if they didn’t make you who you are. I’d wish you the joy of childhood hours, when making bubbles and splashing puddles was the highest and best use of time. I’d wish for you the memories of the stars if they spoke truths to your heart. I’d wish peace & love to follow all your days. I’d wish today and every day you know how wonderful you really Continue Reading →

100 on Eyebrow

I see them stare back at me, mine in shape and definition. An odd realization, the shock of this arbitrary line passed from the dead. Three generations it spans. Each eyebrow the same in arch and style, color too. What happened to the genetic lottery draw? Do living cells dividing have a say? Were these wriggling hairs destined to be? Reminders of those gone before, the ghosts of yesterday can still be found above our eyes. No other shape can break this mold. I am thankful they are not too thick, too thin or unibrow and thankful for Family resemblances.

FinicKy Eater – Chapter 2

Chapter Two Silence surrounded her. Lemus had left and Komono, ever in search of food, had tired of the emptiness of her trash cans. By the play of light seeking entrance through the blinds, night remained an hour or two away. Kasha stretched as if her body ached from its cramped vigil. A glass of liquid sat on the table beside her. The contents of once frozen blood had thawed to room temperature and awaited consumption. Good old Lemus. Kasha stood. She had never been much of a vampire, certainly she didn’t compare to any of the greats: living or Continue Reading →

100 on Capering

Capering on the shore where earth and sea collide. Crushed shells a pumice beneath my feet, toes dance the waters of incoming waves. Salt spray and sun adding to the fun. Moonlit walks, afternoon runs, chasing a dog or his forgotten tennis ball, laughing, breathing, all thoughts recede. Stopped momentarily as if guided by the tides. No matter what I see; ships on the horizon, pelicans in a dive, sea glass, shark’s teeth or a glimpse of dorsal fin, stars, the darkness of water set against the blackest of sky, people, creatures, all converge allowing this soul to caper on.

Beauty In…

Beauty in the shift of day to night, and back again. From the parched dry earth under rain held clouds Longing for reprieve from life’s misery. All it takes is a spark to light the fires once again. Eternity keeps spinning in perfect synchronicity. Beauty In.

100 on One Hundred

My lips turn in a private smile with this 100. Like a favorite book with worn pages, its magical passages marked by dog ears and slips of paper so I can retrace another’s words. Gifts given without prejudice or recourse, of these there are so many. Each akin to a shell cast upon the shore, a gem to be found as toes wiggle in sands. The words as varied as the writers. In this space a kaleidoscope of color bursts without thoughts to patterns (and sometimes rhymes.) I thank them and begin to wonder, have I written 100 of these?

Flash Fiction – “Reflection”

Reflection is a lost art, thought Virgil. He took a deep breath from the plastic tubing forcing air into his nose. His dry, cracked lips refused to smile, but inside his heart glowed with the warmth of memory. It was the one organ which never failed him as he remembered May. Kimberly entered the room quietly. Her brother, Paul, would be coming later. “Dad?” Her hand found his; she brushed it. The idea of holding a hand that had recently been so strong and was now frail tarnished the last of her strength. “You awake?” Virgil opened his eye and forced his mouth into a Continue Reading →

Stained – a novel

Quote

Had I of known each woman would forever leave her mark, change me with her sorrows and joys I might have passed. After all I have been a therapist for twenty years. Little could be said that I had not already heard in some form or another. And yet, with them each revelation touched my heart as though for the first time. Of course I am getting ahead of myself. I sometimes do.

– Idona (A Character)*

 *Snippet from Stained by Teresa Little