Lindsey LeBlanc
Stories (4/0)
- Top Story - January 2022
Soup & SaltinesTop Story - January 2022
Lulu's eyes dart quickly around the convenience store, alighting briefly on each customer to see if they're looking her way. She sees a teen girl with a fussy baby on her hip, frowning as she looks at the meager selection of diapers. An old man is lifting a case of beer from the cooler, whistling as he tucks it under his arm. In the next aisle, two boys around her age are picking out candy, laughing and shoving each other, dropping loud F-bombs that probably make them feel older and cooler than they are. She rolls her eyes, even though she thinks one of them is kind of cute.
By Lindsey LeBlanc2 years ago in Fiction
The Call of the Night Owl
I’ve always had an inner night owl, one who calls to me in the late-night hours, luring me away from the bedroom with promises of a quiet house and uninterrupted time to watch my favorite shows or lose myself in a good book. I’ve been a “late to bed, late to rise” kind of person my whole life, but the habit became even more ingrained when I had children in my twenties. After spending all day caring for tiny humans who constantly needed feeding and changing and cuddling – and even though I generally enjoyed said feeding and changing and cuddling – the idea of a few hours to myself was a seductive temptress I just couldn’t resist.
By Lindsey LeBlanc2 years ago in Humans
I Just Forgot
I am a writer, but for twenty-five years, I forgot. I’m a writer not because there are books out there with my name on them (there aren’t) or because I get paid for each word that flows from my brain to the keyboard (I don’t). I am a writer simply because I write, and it makes me happy. I just happened to forget about this part of myself for a quarter of a century.
By Lindsey LeBlanc2 years ago in Humans