Althea, September 1966 “James, are you out there?” Althaea and James let go of each other and sat up straight. “It’s okay,” James whispered. “It’s just my mother.” “Your mother?” I didn’t think my heart could beat any faster than it did when I put my head on James shoulder just a few minutes earlier,…
JAMES Ecclesiastes 1:8 No matter how much we see, we are never satisfied. No matter how much we hear, we are not content. I sat at the library table, waiting for Althaea to choose her latest books to check out, and wondered what it was about this girl that intrigued me. She was different, that…
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…
LITTLE MISS WORDY 