by william james -for Manchester, NH I drive to the grocery store to relieve my refrigerator of its crushing loneliness. I return empty-handed because I left my wallet on my desk. & Elm St. rages on, all gorgeous cacophony. O Manchester, you glittering rhinestone. O Manchester, you tacky plastic pearl. I love you for your refined kitsch. I love you…
Writing has always been part of my life. As a child, my journey began with writing short stories about family summer vacations. As a teenager, I kept a journal for many years, writing about friendships. Today, I am grateful it is a daily part of my life teaching English and…
by Richard Adams Carey I remember my mother being an atheist about the aging process. “I don’t feel any different,” she would protest as the decades marched on. She didn’t deny the aches and pains, which she did feel, and which were different. It was more a mental thing, a…