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Alice Falls
~The end of Alice~ The pond was deeper than she expected. Colder, too. She felt as though she was sliding, sinking, falling down down down to the bottom — wherever that was. A sudden flash of memory...
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Who do I think I am?
Like my Family Tree – old, propped up, but still growing strong. My maternal grandmother was full-blooded Mohawk and a devout Catholic. She wanted to be a nun. On her way to that vocation she met my...
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“Kill the Indian, and save the man.”
My Mohawk grandmother, Mary Sawatis Jacobs. This is the cover of the book that my mother wrote about growing up on the Mohawk reserve. “History is a relentless master. It has no present, only the past...
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Collecting details: In the bleak midwinter
Observing, collecting details as “glimmers of a beginning.” A way of finding a story to tell. That was the challenge this week. Somewhere outside my window a machine hums incessantly for the second...
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Into the Forest (a story in 50 words)
Trees like a beating heart. Life was noisy. Snow fell, and the woods beckoned – It’s quiet here. Come in. Sure-footed, she blazoned forth. Light slanted through the trees like a promise, A golden...
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Seasonal lake view
From my bedroom window I happen to glance out and spot the shroud of sun spreading it’s last light over the horizon. Before it melts into the woods beyond the lake – a lake we can only view through...
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Until a tiny thing trips you up (Flash Fiction)
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a mother in possession of a young child must be in want of a crystal ball. She wasn’t afraid of anything: Smoldering fire; hail storms of passion;...
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Weekly Photo Challenge: Twist
A whirl of caracters rising upward: a girl in a green dress a Hawaiian-shirted tourist a minotaur two cheese smugglars mustachioed horned and adorned disguised and prized Ffiesta tomffoolery for the...
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How to be happy
Sculpture by Anne Mimi Sammis. Located at Narragansett Beach, RI. Lately, I’ve been working on HAPPY – that elusive state of being that people are always trying to achieve. Seems like a good summer...
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Tap shoes, dreams, and dust
My tap shoes gathering dust. The dark blotch on the top shoe is my fingerprint. I dreamed of dancing, once of twirling, gliding, flying slyph-like across space and polished floors. My parents...
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