Category Archives: Writings

I’m bored. And worried I’ll bring that boredom to the page. Boring, boring, boring. The excess time I spoke of yesterday—the inevitable calm after the storm before the next storm. I’m in the thick of it. A nice sit-down, strumming my chinny-chin-chin, and pondering is usually a welcome retreat, but that’s not where I’m at.Continue reading “The Long-winded Night”

Who will I become or did it already happen? Am I just stuck as who I became? What’s the difference between who I became and who I have become? My friend Reid gets into diatribes during our Marco Polo conversations. The word diatribe—I’m unsure if it means philosophical pondering. Ok, Wikipedia is setting me straight:Continue reading “Touch a Truck”

I spoke to the postmaster of zipcode 31078. It only took two tries to reach him, and just as one would expect from a postmaster in a small town, he knew exactly which house was ours. He told me it would take two business days for Amazon and others to recognize the address as deliverable,Continue reading “Done Deal”

My life feels reminiscent of the time I ran a half marathon with sciatic pain. Even if it meant hobbling right up to the finish line, there was no way I was training for months and not racing through Epcot for the Star Wars-themed race. Like back then, I know I must keep going, evenContinue reading “A Moving Marathon”

How many sentences did I start and not finish, deleting the idea in search of a better one? It’s that kind of day. All work, no play, keep it moving. I’m at my limit. The endless decisions to keep or eliminate things in the moving process are on their final leg. And at this stage,Continue reading “Sweatin’ to the Oldies”

There’s a thousand-mile stare as I imagine mowing the chickweed before settling in to write. With the weeds being far too long and the electric mower not yet packed, I could do the soon-to-be owners a favor. I’m pleased by the feel and look of a new set of pajamas with vibrant orange peaches againstContinue reading “A Clean Slate”

I feel like I’m at capacity—a sponge starting to drip from oversaturation. Since sharing the letter from my mom, friends and family have opened up about her, telling me things I didn’t know. Her best friend Laurie messaged me, “She was smart, funny, inquisitive, she saw through people.” At the time of my Mom’s death,Continue reading “Raw as Rain”

I used to live relatively close to a private Catholic cemetery. It was so close that the bus picked me up and dropped me off there during my elementary years. There was a point when I imagined going on a road trip solely to visit cemeteries, but for whatever reason, it didn’t get any traction.Continue reading “Holy Family Krain Cemetery”

When emptying my mom’s hope chest of random blankets and doilies, I found a sealed letter. On the front, it stated, “To Steve”—my dad’s name. A sealed letter from my Mom, who’s been dead for 26 years. How in the heely hay could a sealed letter from her exist? When I opened it, the firstContinue reading “A Speck of Magic”