Gravestone Moss

The moss was thick, a pillow, a carpet. It coated the ground in plush velvet patches. She curled on one, hugging herself against the chill. He would not look here. He thought she feared death. Death whispered in the cypress. She wondered if her mother had found some peace here.  She reached a hand up … Continue reading Gravestone Moss

Fresh

I was going through some old notes and found a 100 Word Story that I wrote several months ago. The photo prompt was of a burnt electrical socket - ***** She signed papers and left the lawyer's office as a single homeowner with a key. If nothing else, it drew a line between the old … Continue reading Fresh

On the First Night of NaNo – Doggerel Poetry and Holiday Tradition

My family has never really formed any ironclad holiday traditions. I mean, my grandma had a particular way that the tree was always decorated, and very definite ideas about when decorations go up (the day after Thanksgiving) and when they come down (January 6th), but since she passed away we have sort of played every holiday … Continue reading On the First Night of NaNo – Doggerel Poetry and Holiday Tradition