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Part One
A lone car cruised silently along a stretch of highway where decadent forest bowed under the weight of limb and tangle. The black asphalt, doused with a fresh coat of mid-October rain, made the shade and shadows all the more ubiquitous. Even the headlight beams pushing out from the ’73 Monte Carlo dropped dead right in front of them. Darwin kept it steady at ninety-five knowing that if he did happen to stray from his lane then the rumble-strips, forever assisting those without any linear sensibilities, would put him back on the straight and narrow, no questions asked. On the radio, Sonny and Terry’s “Train to Jordan” drifted over top the hissing of a partially open window while Darwin, pulling a shot from a bottle of Old Navy’s finest, his hand trembling slightly, replayed the scenario over and over again in his head - spin, click, spin click. A small trickle of blood careened over his lower lip. He bit harder. The last four hours had felt like an eternity- “People get ready, there’s a train a comin’.”
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| Author: |
Deborah Poff |
| Dated: |
Tuesday, May 11 2010 @ 07:00 AM EDT |
| Viewed: |
136 times |
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Kate had been at the cottage for four weeks. There had been so much to do. First, she cleaned everything. After being closed up for many years, the cottage had layers of dust. There were also mouse droppings.
The cottage had become a mouse haven over the winters. That was unsanitary and potentially unhealthy. She had to disinfect everything. Then there was the garden. It had to be weeded. It was filled mostly with perennials, but some had not made it through the various winters. So, she weeded and tended, extracted and planted. She also decided that she needed to replace some of the furniture. Some of it had been nibbled by mice and some of it smelled of mold and mildew. She didn’t want to replace it with just anything. She wanted furniture that fit with the ambience of the cottage and was consistent with its style and past. This meant making a couple of trips back to the mainland. The expenditure was not insignificant. She scoured the country-side looking for antiques which she supplemented with well made reproductions in the William Morris style. All such acquisitions were duly conveyed across the water by boat. The place was starting to look good.
Kate loved birds. She had made a couple of very respectable bird houses with her own two hands and also made totally with materials on the land. She climbed up two of the trees on her property and lovingly hung them. She was pleased that both were now inhabited. She also planted red begonias in planters on the porch and hung humming bird feeders in front of the cottage. She was duly rewarded by the visit of the emerald hummingbirds, local but particularly selective and discriminating visitors.
Kate had come to the cottage to write.
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| Mary’s husband ordered her in the mail and years later, she was still getting ordered around.
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| Author: |
Deborah Poff |
| Dated: |
Saturday, February 13 2010 @ 06:00 PM EST |
| Viewed: |
295 times |
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| Eleanor closed the last exam booklet for her introductory philosophy class and recorded the grade of 52 percent. Academically, she knew that this was a travesty. This student had failed. But, in the larger scheme of things and with the purpose of education in mind, Eleanor believed that she was doing the right thing. She looked at the student’s name on the front of her exam book – “Misti-Dawn Moon.”
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| Author: |
Emily Kendy |
| Dated: |
Thursday, September 10 2009 @ 05:23 PM EDT |
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505 times |
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“You’re not serious.”
“I don’t expect you to wait, I mean obviously I hope-”
“You hope?! Hope what? That I’ll hold a candle-light vigil or something? You’re not doing this!”
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| Author: |
Emily Kendy |
| Dated: |
Monday, March 17 2008 @ 07:50 AM EDT |
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1405 times |
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| In the several seconds it takes for me to notice the scraping noise, I find myself once again mesmerized by my new pug, Beatrice. She’s trying to squeeze her little sausage body out from beneath the coffee table while I am considering that perhaps three meals a day is excessive for a puppy. What can I say? I just want to make the little princess happy. She stops wriggling again and tilts her head in the direction of the kitchen, growling. This is when I hear it; metal grinding against wood, as though someone is whittling away the frame of my kitchen window. Damn the old buildings in this city.
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| Author: |
Ann Tiffany |
| Dated: |
Saturday, February 02 2008 @ 07:30 PM EST |
| Viewed: |
1392 times |
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| There comes a time in all our lives when we have to say goodbye to someone or something that we like. This happened to me a few years ago when one wintry morning my old car wouldn't start. Again. This was in the days when cars still had chokes, I'm not sure what they have now but I don't think that they have chokes.
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| Author: |
Philip Nanton |
| Dated: |
Monday, November 05 2007 @ 09:15 AM EST |
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1619 times |
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…………ruck a tuck ruck a tuck ruck a tuck ruck a tuck boss tune dey fo de brothers and sisters wey wey weyyyyyy yooooooo gooooood marnin beautiful saint vincent tree seventeen on de lurve dial so jus keep-it-here gods blessing on dis beautiful isle and all de way down de grenadines gods blessing on bequia mustique canouan mayreau union marnin cack a crow coke ye ah coe coke ye ah coe an look charleen wid me dis marnin here in de studio wha sweet you last night charleen tell de listeners dem wa you get up to
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| Author: |
doris ray |
| Dated: |
Thursday, October 18 2007 @ 05:00 PM EDT |
| Viewed: |
1580 times |
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| Margaret climbed the weathered rungs of the nailed-on ladder, which led up the side of the old barn to the loft above the calf-feeding pen. It was 1947 and she was ten years of age—nearly two years older than her brother—and it wasn’t fair that Joey got to do important jobs on the farm, along with Dad, while she had to help Mom with the boring indoor chores.
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