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Three months of lockdown. The world is waiting, drawing a breath, taking its time. It isn’t over yet. For the
Do you know that scene in a movie when a person lies on a hospital bed or operating table, surrounded
You are beautiful perfect entitled. You have come from a funeral of a fifteen year old. You talk about the
From the ages of six to nineteen, averaging three times a year, my father would take out his fountain pen
Each time there is a rush of anger swamped by sorrow. Each time the fucking helplessness is enough to drown
A young woman comes to my home for the first time today. We are meeting in a professional capacity. Very
The time has come to distribute her things. Leaving no will, only vaguely indicating her desires, she has left us
My number crunching brain insists I acknowledge it. I started posting on this blog turned website a year ago today.
A post on my facebook cross-stitch group and the tea roses blooming at my kitchen window were the catalysts for
When they both lay asleep, separated for the first time in fifty five years. She on a state of the
