by Sarah Ockershausen Delp The table is set for company. The florescent shine off the faucet is deafening. She’ll teeter in, whisking the tiles in tiny steps. Click clacking in her vintage heels as soon as the bell ting-tings on the oven. I’m cooking inside. It smells of rosemary and thyme, roasted…
by Amanda Lightner My mother called one gray February morning. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?” Pinching the phone between my ear and shoulder, I scraped cereal from my son’s bib. “Mom? You there?” She cleared her throat. “Yes. Yes, I’m here. Sorry to call so early, but I have a favor…
by Sara Carey The twinkling lights in the restaurant were beginning to blur together. Emily’s cheeks were warm, her hair falling in soft tendrils around her face. She couldn’t believe she was sitting across such a handsome man, and she knew that she was way out of her league when…
By Joseph L Rockmen “Terrific work on Manson and Bundy’s birthdays everyone. I received the numbers from corporate. With 3,000 travelers serviced, we exceeded our quarterly goals!” Mrs. York announced at the morning meeting to a round of applause. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee masked the body odor that lingered…
By Cat Hannon Blank mindAndWandering thoughts.Of years past.Of fights,Tempers flaring,Of wrong doings.Also,Of cooking my first full meal.Of our dogs: Ricky, Abbie, Peanut.Of the Disney Channel:Wizards; Sweet Life.This does not make upFor the abuse, mental and emotional –Yelling, screaming.Total shut-downs – mind, body, soul;All numb and dead.Now though… I am alive and…
By Hannah Canon Quiet. One word that summed up Amy Holmes’ life quite well these days. It was quiet when she went to bed at night, and it was quiet when she woke up in the morning. She rode quietly in her car on her way to work every morning,…
By Patricia Smith Daylight arrived like a long-overdue visitor. Chris had been awake for hours, listening to the sound of her husband Michael’s steady breathing. Before the day ended, she would become a part of history. Mother Nature, seeming to understand the importance of this day, responded with a brilliant array…
By Todd Howard Two weeks ago, on Friday, Frankie’s ma made pasta e fagioli. Well, she calls it Pasta Fazool. Frankie told me that’s a Southern Italy Brooklyn thing. It’s soup with white kidney beans, pasta, greens, and some other stuff—like lots of garlic. Anyway, Frankie’s mom is the best…
By Kale Meyer These days I find myself thinking back to the summer just before my dad left for good. I guess the old memories make the house seem less empty than it is. I try to fill my head with the pleasant ones. Of me running through the hallways…
By Aubrie Arnold The husband and wife stood outside the multi-storied glass and steel building staring at the revolving front door. The weather was chilly and wet, and they huddled inside their long winter coats—navy blue for her and heather grey for him that matched a small portion of his thinning…