121
Feb 28, 2020
As the day bends toward night, we fill the kitchen with simmering smells–bits of onion sizzling with chicken and pungent Indian spices, the roasted sweetness of Winter squash. The sky matures to a dusky persimmon, and I wipe butternut gold from the blade of the knife. “Mom Jones, when’s Dad Jones coming home?” Riley asks, […]
122
Oct 25, 2019
In the window, the orchid’s petals drop, crisp and thin, like elegant parchment cut-outs piling in drifts on the sill. Their rose hue has faded to ivory; they age like paper, but far more quickly. I cup my hand, sweeping in the soft, dead things, murmuring about the loss of another fragile life. “I wonder […]
123
Aug 9, 2019
Kevin walks into the living room, where the morning light turns golden and Adam’s music makes a mini city of silver disc towers in front of the stereo. The room swells with harmonies. Adam roams, a lanky builder carefully settling one more disc atop one pile and then turning to lift a disc from another. […]
124
May 31, 2019
“What else I can do to help?” Riley asks again for maybe the sixth time, hands on her hips, that grin stretching wide. Riley loves to help. She asks this of my so-beautiful friend, who stands hot-cheeked and fingering a hasty ponytail, assessing an assortment of baskets heaped with supplies, a row of folding tables […]
125
Mar 15, 2019
From where I lay, I can see only the rough, flat nap of the businesslike carpet and legs rising up out of tennis shoes I would not have noticed except for the change in perspective. The therapy table has a triangular cutout for my face; they have cushioned it with a sky blue towel. I […]
126
Jan 18, 2019
Early morning quiet and steam dances and curls over the cup, and I sit listening. The many sounds of silence include the voice of God, and His Word always changes things. I scribble the date in my journal and begin to write, glancing back to the Bible still open in my lap. The cover and […]
127
Sep 14, 2018
As long as I lay down and drink rivers of water, I can avoid the spinal headache, that thunderous, gripping madman storming through my mind bent on dropping me to my knees. It broods, heavy, hiding behind some banded muscle with its club lifted, daring me to move. This, then, is the valley. From here, […]
128
Jul 20, 2018
It requires a good washing to ready the planks. From inside, where I scrub unseen demons from our stainless steel sink, rubbing at the curves, pressing down with my fingers, I hear the steady pounding of water. I hear the rapid smack against the windows, the siding, the beams. The word wash feels too soft, […]
129
Jul 13, 2018
In the beginning, nothing. I stand at the edge of a wide, blank canvas. From the street, as the first light cracks open the sky, I only see a broad, smooth, sandy plain, and beyond this, a dazzling sheet of silver glass. For a number of days, I disconnect everything and step away, wiping it […]
130
Jun 22, 2018
Friday morning, while the light’s still new, Adam slides his Father’s Day gift out of hiding. “Play golf,” Adam says, pausing the game he’s playing on the Xbox, sauntering over to where Kevin and I stand talking, dropping the words like a couple of coins in Kevin’s palm. Adam watches our faces, looking for something–a […]