Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: Endings
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The pain that has drained Vicki since she was a little girl is her mama's inability to see a situation from more than one (mama's own singularly unique!) viewpoint. In fact, just between us, Vicki's boarding a plane without her ever-present appendage and will be touching down among swaying palms in time for pupus. I…
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there’s a hollow place that fills the space in which you once presidedwoodland imagessisters gathered at a picnic tablebeers all around and one glass of wine strange inflection on second syllableshands that were the object of a stranger’s admirationa son whose name is the same as my own your journey now is one of real…
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Bitti is broken. Art is her tether to this tenuous moment, and he packed up and left town last week. Where does our mind wander when dreams die? Do we become the catalyst of our own demise? Bitti loves what she loves and accepts the risks. She got what she asked for, so she has…
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So traumatized Chuck still works the mines.A poet's soul with hardened arteries.The company doesn't pay Chuck for his turn of phrase and artist's heart. It's a tough task to write the perfect stanza when crafted in the arc of a headlamp.
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To make something beautiful is a lifelong pursuit. Keep edges rough.Lines are suggestions on where they should be crossed.This is a love letter to your unfettered spirit. It is the rough edge of one's work that establishes merit.Beginning. Middle. End.The order in which the dream is conveyed is inconsequential. Mastery is misleading. Know when to…
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compliance impliedan exclamation points northmethodology debatecopypastea specialist in processimplementation manage the mayhemrevision as decisioncandidates come cheap My supervisor said we sometimes don't get a choice in what we do, and I thought: Really? We don't? Says who? Just like uncle Joe used to say: There's always an escape hatch. Are you gonna crawl through it,…
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A blessing in the skies looks different to each of us. This morning as I looked up in the 6:45 a.m. heavens, scattered with puffed and wispy salmon-tinted clouds, I saw my beloved schnauzers Jethro and Bruno scamper about on a biscuit-shaped cumulus congestus that rolled past my house. That's when it occurred to me,…
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Who's story am I allowed to tell? Can I hand over free rein to my imagination so it can wander unchecked as it dictates the rules of an existence lived outside of my skin? The safe play is to write what I know; access to opportunities and the freedom to consider more than one path…
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Disarm me with your charms, but know that your personality is problematic.(Yeah – don't know which one of us is the addict.)But here we are in the woods, a stare-down in progress.Each one of us casts a light of varying intensity, all in the service of demanding transparency.Disrupting the other in an unfolding tale of…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 