All our losses

There are things I do to forget: Laugh more, take my dog for long meandering walks, concentrate on a new diet and exercise program, watch hours of both good and bad TV, and read books. Lots of books. But, it doesn't matter. Death is everywhere. Characters disappearing as easily as the light slips away in… Continue reading All our losses


I don’t even like pie

Lately it's everything. The first sunny day it seems in months and I read Nora Ephron's last book I Remember Nothing and Other Reflections in an hour in my most comfortable chair. It's really Gerald's chair but now, all of these things feel like our things. She talks so much about mortality and it's haunting.… Continue reading I don’t even like pie

Thoughts on Almost Getting Hit

They say life flashes before your eyes, but they didn't say it might not be recognized. Might not even be mine. Cars are too smooth these days. Windows that won't be confined to a side. Colours that splash into sight. My head barely clearing the hood of trucks---supersized. If they told me I'd be getting… Continue reading Thoughts on Almost Getting Hit

Fruit Fly Memories

The orange juice was too expensive. The orange punch was on sale. Only the rich drink vitamins, but we're rich in dreams. I mixed it up in a stolen beer pitcher, I liked it more than I thought I should. Orange drink. Mmm. It's the middle of winter but we still have fruit flies, so… Continue reading Fruit Fly Memories

Her Hands

I remember the skin on the tops of her hands. Thin, as though she'd rubbed them too many times. Too many times warmed. Too many times washed. Tissue-paper thin and yellowing beneath the freckles. I inherited her long fingers, her cheekbones, her tendency to laugh generously. Not loudest or longest but as though it were… Continue reading Her Hands

The Bird

(Photo via m78kem on flickr) I saw a black bird crushed on the pavement, wing bent like a check mark. The tire made it two dimensional. I stopped. Wondered if maybe it was broken before the car came, if it struggled to hop, skip, jump out of the way, wings battling gravity. Or if it… Continue reading The Bird

Up, Up, Up She Goes

There's a hole in the wall in the stock room at work. High up, too far to reach, just below the suspended industrial lights. Every day I hang my coat, unwrap my scarf and look up. I take my insides, the blood and guts, the blue veins that snake up my inner arms, all the… Continue reading Up, Up, Up She Goes