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…
I was traveling down the long dirt road behind my grandmother’s house when I saw it. It stood alone. It was the prettiest tree I had ever seen, the sunlight hit its branches as though each was lightly wrapped in twinkling white lights. And, nestled in the middle, was a tree house. I wondered if…
Shortly after I heard the screen door slam and my mother crank up the station wagon, I went back to exploring the house. I walked the halls, my mind in tune with each creaky step of the wooden floorboards. Running my hands gently over the walls, the banister, I let my thoughts wander to…
“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 moment I hear the familiar creak of that old front door, I am free. A weekend at the lake house is always the best therapy. Better than shopping or God forbid, laying on some quack’s couch, dredging up pain and suffering from my childhood. I love it most when I have it all…
LITTLE MISS WORDY 