A new week begins. A fresh start. Monday morning presents us with an opportunity to make the next seven days count; I mean really count! Monday has had a bad rap for as long as I can remember. For most of us it’s the beginning of a long work week and the end of the […]
Once upon a time, there lived an old ghost. His old bones were covered in seaweed and barnacles and he wanted nothing more than to have them discovered, cleaned up, and buried properly. Why did everyone else get to rest their weary bones in peaceful places, yet his were left in the cold and the
The Chase His lungs ached, ready to burst, yet he had no choice but to keep running faster than he ever knew he could. There was the deafening sound of a rushing river up ahead. He knew it wouldn’t be in sight until he was flying through the air, hurtling himself off the cliff he
It was late afternoon and a small smokey fire crackled in the pit down by the beach. Leaves were everywhere; a mosaic of gold, red and brown. He pulled a rake through the fallen as if following the outline of a mountain stream exposing a green path underneath. The recent rains had brought the lawn
I love fall. The colors of the leaves, the crisp air, boots and sweaters. Everything about it, except for the fog. Waking up in the mornings to soupy gray ghosts hugging the windows is less than a cheerful way to start the day. Not being able to see two feet out the door is not
I studied my mothers’ hands. Hands that still shone the beauty of youth behind the layers of age. Anyone could see they belonged to a woman who lived life to the fullest. Tiny sunspots dotted her skin and short nails represented a desire for cleanliness and usefulness, ready at a moment’s notice, these hands were.