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…
I held the baby a little tighter as I followed the rocky path along the shoreline. My eyes refused to adjust to the darkness and the moon provided little guidance. The baby slept, peacefully buried in my bosom, oblivious to the life altering journey before us. I prayed she wouldn’t wake until we were far…
Glancing at the clock she moved toward the bathroom, aware of each tick announcing the passing of time, each minute bringing her closer to the moment her husband would pull into the driveway, wheels crunching gravel. He promised to be home early tonight, had even made reservations at her favorite little Greek restaurant. They would sit at…
YO MR. WHITE! AND MR. STRUNK! The infamous Strunk and White, purveyors of compositional advice, implore us to omit needless words in our writing. American author Ernest Hemingway, nicknamed “Papa,” embraced this writing philosophy. Known for an unadorned, sparse prose style, he favored short sentences with strong verbs and very few adjectives or adverbs. While Hemingway is well…
LITTLE MISS WORDY 