The back porch hadn’t been invaded yet, so I took up residence there. Since the funeral, the house had been consistently full of people dropping off food and paying their respects. It was strange to see my mother interacting with a room full of strangers, though they all seemed to know her quite well. I tried…
My hands trembled. The journal slipped to the ground. The way Mrs. Carmichael described my grandmother, always writing, mad me believe this journal was hers. I let the reality register for a moment. This was my mother’s journal. My parents first met when they were just a couple of years older than me. They lived…
Althaea- September, 1966 I saw him exiting the park on his bicycle. He was surrounded by a light that drew my eyes from the sidewalk cracks I was studying as I made my way to the grocery store. I watched him from afar feeling an unfamiliar quiver in my stomach. I’m not one to get…
I landed with a thud. Sliding down the old wooden banister to the first floor was exhilarating. Having only seen that in movies, I was impressed I was able to pull it off. “Eden, I need to make a run into town and meet with the funeral director. I’ll be back in about an hour.…
“Eden, where the hell are you?” my mom called from somewhere downstairs. I couldn’t tell exactly what side of the house her voice drifted up from as we had only been here a week, and this was by far the biggest house we had ever lived in. When we arrived last week, I had…
It’s the kind of day you would light a match just to watch it burn, if not for the drops that would extinguish the flame. Not those falling from the sky, but those traveling down your face. It’s the kind of day you long for the numbness you’ve trained your heart to embrace because…
The boxes sat stacked by twos in the corner of the living room. Her dad had pulled them out and placed them there as he did every year. She never knew for sure where they were stored. I suppose that added to the magic that filled this time of year. The boxes would sit there day…
LITTLE MISS WORDY 