Tag: writing

Learning Why I Wander

I wonder why I wander in this forest thick sans light how the birds can fly above it all peering down upon this “sight.” What must they think of us below – – this self-discovery mass – who struggle dusk to dawn each day…

Keeping An Eye Out

The human course, it often baffles – the politics, ego, discord – who wants the giveaways of maniacs? No, they can keep their judgement raffles. But if something makes our bellies churn the core, an apple rotten, then curious it makes our eye perhaps,…

The Peach Stand

Sweat puddles and drips down to her seven-year-old feet like the ice cream will soon do. A sweltering Texas summer. Grandpa grins through his cigar, proud of his summer income. Peaches in boxes and sacks. Peaches in crates lined up on tables beneath his…

Before Amber Alerts

She was told how fun it would be to watch the parade in small town Fredericksburg, Texas. “Exciting for a four-year-old.” “Look at that float!” “Carolyn, do you see the clown?” No. All she saw was the backsides of wiggly people in front of her….

Maybe Tomorrow

She chokes on the water and knows what she needs. A concession stand with vending machines. A flimsy cup no bigger than the size of her small hand drops to the tray and is filled with soda, carbonated water, and ice. A Bruce’s fried pie…

THIS IS NOT MY BRAIN ON DRUGS

This is Mary Jane.   She is a paper doll created by Milton Bradley Co. in the 1950’s. This is me, created by Mom and Dad in the 1950’s. This is Paper Doll Me created by, well, me a few days ago.  Why a…

You Tell Him!

 

A Chipped Tooth of Honor

Gene is teaching me how to play checkers. He lets me be red and I learn about jumping and kinging. I think about Grady’s checkerboard and think that next time I might just ask him for a game. We could sit outside at his…

When the Bull Gets the Last Laugh

Maybe it was a low point for Dad but for me, it was anything but. We were living at the Dennis ranch, when Dad came home drunk and decided it was time to act like a real rodeo star. I was standing outside the…

Discouraging but Deserving

I like looking at my teach, Mrs. Alexander, at her nice smile and her fancy dress. I keep picturing my mother getting to wear a dress like that someday. Right before it’s time to go home, Mrs. Alexander starts to teach us a new…