Who I write for
When I recorded Divided Loyalties, he read it twice. The second time, he said he was reading a book by his favorite author.
When I recorded Divided Loyalties, he read it twice. The second time, he said he was reading a book by his favorite author.
Hanna sipped her water and sighed. “I, for one, am looking forward to 2021. Have you made your new year’s resolution yet?”
I used to think it took one person to write a book. Now, I know better.
I race up to her and follow her into the kitchen. “What are we having?”
“This.” She pulls on my t-shirt and I wrap my arms around her and lean in for a kiss. Sweet as the chocolate chip cookies packed in a plastic bag on the table. Warm as the summer sun. Necessary as air.
He treasures a few mementoes that keep the fathers and son connection strong.
I pulled him close, took off his mask—brazen woman that I am. And kissed him.
And I’ll do it again. I’m sure of it. I sit beside him as his gaze takes me in inch by inch. He’s studied my hair, badly in need of a cut, and he’s gone over every inch of my face and my body. On a normal day, I’d feel self-conscious. But today, it’s wonderful to be the center of attention.
The news this morning has been breathless as the world awaits the first American space launch since before Lori was born. I’ve kept it on the television all morning, delighted to listen to good news for a change.
Today, the newscasters report in flowery prose, as they talk about the mission and the astronauts and the new space ship.
First, happy Thanksgiving! Even if the pandemic has kept us from being with the crowds of people who love to celebrate with, I hope your day is one of gratitude and love. I know mine is. I’m thankful for you, glad you take a moment now and then to stop by here. On Thursdays, I’ve…
“C’mon, Rex.” Like I have to prod him to hurry after Monster.
We race around the corner where a woman wearing an Old Bay mask is picking up the little creature.
It’s Jessica. My heart gets a workout like nothing it’s experienced before. It pounds out a tune before rising with joy when she looks up at me and smiles.
“Look what I found. This little kitten ran right into my arms.”
Smart cat. Exactly what I wish I could do. I stop about ten feet away. I don’t know if I should get any closer to the woman who isn’t speaking to me.
Christmas isn’t Christmas without stories: various retellings of the Nativity Story, Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol, Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore, O. Henry ‘s The Gift of the Magi…the list is endless.