Written with my Thursday night writing group with the prompts: couldn’t find my keys, night in Fiji, half-life, listening to trees, embracing endings, where shall we go, plumeria I dug in my purse—life savers, lip stick, coin purse, tissues. When I couldn’t find my keys, I decided I was too drunk to drive home. So I ordered another … Continue reading Twelve Dreams of Fiji
I wrote this a month ago with my Thursday night writing group, and I didn’t use too many of the prompts, though I did use these: out to lunch, for whose eyes do I write today, shedding inhibitions, “A writer is not one who answers questions but who asks them.” What I miss most is going … Continue reading What I Miss Most
This is a reprint of one of my most popular stories, a fun little mystery for October. Enjoy! Memorie is in a cozy pace, propped up with pillows and notebook, herbal tea and the most affectionate of her three cats at her right hip on the sofa next to her. She has arrived at this … Continue reading Memorie and the Coyote
Goodreads had a Facebook post a week or so ago asking readers to “describe the book you’re currently reading in one word.” I’m generally too verbose to succeed with such restrictions, but this time it was easy. The Earthseed Series by the late African American science fiction writer Octavia Butler is like nothing else out there—and … Continue reading Earthseed, a review
Written with my Thursday night writing group with the prompts: the gray cat stared at him, enjoy the ultimate, cockroaches and ghosts shared the space, we are awed by our nine-hour innocence, began five years ago, after the equinox, pete/peat, imagine, landed on my blanket, the day after yesterday, I am from America, I never thought, … Continue reading The Day After Yesterday
Years ago I had a student named Joseph who was deaf and mute and on the autism spectrum. He was 9 years-old, with big brown eyes, and sandy hair. I loved him and I knew he trusted me. When it was time to come in from the playground, he could not hear the bell, so … Continue reading Wagons
Written with my Thursday night group with the prompts: in a clearing by a river, driving to San Francisco in the rain, under the bleachers, out of touch with the child I was, she is the only one who knew me, chased by a large creature The first thing I remember is being chased by … Continue reading Malleable Memory
