It’s the no-light part of the morning when I feel like a thief stealing and adding minutes to the clock. Porch, garage, and barn lights are all I see, alighting just their structure in a sea of black. I’m trying to shake paws with two felines whose haunches grip the window sill and who, atContinue reading “No Mercy Mayhem”
Author Archives: Jaclynn Loibl
A Majestic Murder
It’s a day for the birds, literally. After picking up a to-go iced coffee at the ‘bucks, guttural caws flanked me on every side. My Grandfather once teased my brother, “Hear that, they’re saying Ky-le, Ky-le.” The 4-inch spikes posted at the edge of a gas station cover – meant to keep birds away –Continue reading “A Majestic Murder”
Cat Attack
I am a messy, knotted ball of string after a client requested I mediate a conversation between them and their ex. I know why; a one-time chit-chat is as helpful as pointing at a newborn and saying, “Walk!” So I reflected, processed, and came up with an alternative solution to send them, “I see sixContinue reading “Cat Attack”
Dull To Dramatic: A Writing Exercise
This week’s writing exercise was to write one bland and one exciting story. I loved Houdini-ing words and laying the drama on thick with this one. Pardon grammatical or punctuation errors; it’s an exercise, after all. Boring With my cart leading and one item on my list to get, I turned the corner, pencil inContinue reading “Dull To Dramatic: A Writing Exercise”
The King Tide Abides
Lionel Richie’s vinyl spins and spills sensually into the air. It’s too good, I think, swaying softly while allowing him to make love to my ears. My mind knows that with this way of his, he had to turn a few racists straight. It’s the kind of day I fantasize is a writer’s life; AContinue reading “The King Tide Abides”
Cheeky Pouch Belly
It’s king tide time here at the ocean, otherwise known as the highest projected tide of the year. In town, a tsunami pod seller will be handing out business cards for their $7900 life-saving device at the end of the Shilo Inn’s parking lot all weekend. After eight months of duck motherhood, I spied –Continue reading “Cheeky Pouch Belly”
Saboteur de Sugar
Damn, Dave Crosby died. I wrote a post about Dave and I’s joy in seeing him live and listening to his albums at the cabin. His passion for art, his political stances, and his badass harmonies and lyrics are something for which the world is better. In other news, no matter where I live, whyContinue reading “Saboteur de Sugar”
I’m Late, I’m Late
It’s a feverish pitch running naked through a cornfield kind of day. One thing backed up by another until I got home – finally! – only to be reminded that our first session of D&D is tonight. Dave’s cleaning up dinner while I write, do yoga, and get the remaining unchecked tasks checked before theContinue reading “I’m Late, I’m Late”
Sweet Child O’ Mine
I’m a big fan of making life easier for future me. So much so that zippi-ty-do-da-daying into the unknown and bonding with discomfort are blossoming into friends of mine. The shadow is an old poker pal of days long; his sorrowful tale is one I often pull up a chair to and nod. My daughter’sContinue reading “Sweet Child O’ Mine”
Sidle Up Partner
I snap off, a dead battery of the mind. With a scarecrow at the helm, all SOS alerts go unreturned. As an endless student in the classroom for writing, listening to someone share their knowledge should have been a supportive massage on the mind. Instead, it flicked the all-knowing nerve that is my ego, andContinue reading “Sidle Up Partner”
Going On 40 