Stranger at the pay phone
As she began speaking to an operator, my mind wandered to a blood-splattered ER where I envisioned my little boy grimacing in pain and crying for his mommy, me.
Why my Bombeck badge matters
This badge arrived attached to an email announcing that one of my essays now lives on the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop website.
The crying, the gift and the wardrobe
As she outgrew the costumes, she handed those down to her younger sister – the costumes, mind you, not the wardrobe. That would always and forever be hers. So was the dream.
Dancing with words
I go to refill my coffee and see the clock advance, its hands beckoning me to dance.
The goodness of a teeny tiny beating heart
This teeny tiny heart beats and I am pleased beyond measure with this treasure…
My pledge to start smoking
…should I stick to my uniquely crafted Great American Smokeout pledge, there is no doubt that soon I will be smoking…
Coming full circle in the Square
…when the day came to kiss his little forehead and gaze into his trusting hazel eyes one last time before planes, trains and old technology separated us, I almost changed my mind.
Identifying the muse at table 12
It is dinner time and the place is packed, mostly with tourists I would guess, drawn in by the sign at the entrance proclaiming “Birthplace of Harry Potter.”
Accomplished well before midnight
Writing live from a Panera Bread in Aurora on the 31st day of March, it's Lisa Marlin. This is my last chance to get a fourth post in before the stroke of midnight -- a March challenge from two other creative sorts. That's seven hours away, but I've got a few things...
