A milk jug, handle turned in, was all it took for father to lather, a barrage of curses decrying our lack of worth, foaming from
Category: memoir
Novel on Hold
Begging, this story, brimming over bursting out I suck in, hesitate ending preset message elusive crushed beneath weight of subjectivity.
A 60’s Childhood
Formative years were more destruct than construct; contradictions riddled the foundation of our familial structure: one man tyrannized five females while in the news, women
First Place in a Writing Contest
Thank you to the Story Circle Network for accepting my story: Hoping to Be Missed. I am excited to report that I won first place
Aromatherapy
School days meant up-before-dawn, carpools across town, tuna-sandwiches and rotting bananas shoved in brown paper sacks. Then home by bus – exhaust, the stench of
Early (Hidden) Roots
The house is brand new and we move in without our mother, who is in the hospital getting our new baby. There are three floors
