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…
ALTHAEA – September, 1966 I could feel his eyes on me. I pretended I was reading, but every few minutes I would casually glance up to see him watching me from across the room. When he stood, I bolted. James Porter. I had heard there was a new kid in school. I didn’t usually bother…
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…
The dream I had in the treehouse haunted me, but it didn’t stop me from heading back there every chance I got. Today was no different. It was the perfect day to curl up with my sketchbook, and lose myself in the scratching sound of my pencil, as images leaped from my mind to paper.…
LITTLE MISS WORDY 