It’s the third day of school, and my ten-year-old daughter is in tears. She missed the school bus despite being ready and waiting. She had appeared in the kitchen an…
Paper Doll Tales Posts
My mantra is two words on a fading yellow notecard. Truth: I’ve lost the card. Or, Truth: I’ve lost the motivation to go look for the card. I’m pretty sure…
The book pages have turned beige, and I don’t remember them starting off beige. They’ve gone beige the way re-run TV shows from the 90s have gone grainy and the…
Heights bother me, not claustrophobia. What would I do—I question my interior self—wedged in a dark space, say in a cave, beneath the earth, confined, constricted, and suffocated by stone?…
He had the lesson time wrong. 4:30. He arrived earlier. He remembered his violin. He remembered his music. He waited in the hallway, and a girl scooted in before him,…
What I miss about the place are the sounds. Hisses. Sputters. Splutters. Burps. I miss the place and I think of onomatopoetic words: Fissure. Muck. Splatter. Whisper. Burble. Splat. Slurp.…