Writer’s Block

I have officially run out of story ideas.  A friend of mine has encouraged me to submit work to the Southern Women‘s Review, and as the deadline approaches, I find myself creatively crippled. I am a Southern woman, born in the South, raised in the South, and after a few years in the not-South, we … Continue reading Writer’s Block

Lost Balls

Last holiday season, when I worked at the Barnes & Noble in Minnesota, a clean-cut 30-something man, about my age, approached me at the information desk.  His short, sandy hair was neatly trimmed, his face freshly shaved, and he wore a grass-green long-sleeved polo, tucked into khaki chinos.  He stepped up to the counter where … Continue reading Lost Balls

Too much to see

I sat at the kitchen table with my journal, and when I looked up, I saw hand prints on the glass door, horizontal lines of blinds, square pattern of tiles, vertical lines of the fence.  There were shoes strewn about on the porch, trikes parked haphazardly, toys littered everywhere.  If I turned my eyes back … Continue reading Too much to see

I remember

I remember how pretty the marsh looks in summer, when a storm is coming, and the grass looks neon green against a blackening sky. I remember the Fourth of July in Savannah that year with Brian.  We rode in his Jeep with the top down, drove down to River Street to watch the fireworks.  But … Continue reading I remember

A Morning in Sounds

7:45 am – I hear the tink of small plastic parts, of tiny Pony shoe box lids capping tiny Pony shoe boxes.  I hear the kids’ sweet voices as they play, turning less sweet as our daughter’s voice escalates to an ugly “That’s Mine!” that makes me cringe.  I hear the occasional car passing outside … Continue reading A Morning in Sounds