Lisa H

Joined November 2017

0 stories

Bio

I'm learning to be wildly inappropriate, ridiculous, needy - and alive.

Thank you so much for all the support!

Achievements (1)

Runner-Up in After the Parade Challenge

Stories (33/0)

The Fisherman
I've seen death in quiet hum It crosses streets without a look It renders all as deaf and dumb And lifts us from a rusty hook
By Lisa H11 months ago in Poets
Junction
The Sun was setting around the windows, a dusty sort of start to the dance. Is this a funeral? Or a wedding? I smile at the little girl across from me,
By Lisa H12 months ago in Poets
Book, meet writer
Dawdle through the shelves adorned I’m looking for a certain book Sadly, I remain unwarned Time has passed without a look
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Poets
Small hand on three
"You're making coffee?" Emily turned the corner from the hallway, looking at the clock, its little hand on the three. She gawked at the sight of me, suddenly.
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Fiction
How to pour a cup of coffee
I was nineteen and embarrassed - I’d never made a cup of coffee before. I stood in the doorway listening to the click buzz click buzz cicadas
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Poets
Barrie
Barrie woke up and woke up and woke up. She couldn’t remember doing anything else but waking up. The bedroom was swathed in beige, many different shades, old blankets from her family, grandmother, neighbors. She admired the sentiments of things in old age - the thread-bare pillowcase from her youth, and the green bowl she’d favored across the last thirty years of her life. She’d never felt so at peace until she woke up dead.
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Fiction
"Saudade"
I'd arrived at my grandmother's house three days ago, attended the funeral, and started the slow dig through her belongings. It had been a healing experience - until I found the strange markings under her bed with something in Portuguese.
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Fiction
I Never Learn
Brittle for the words Ms. Goleb cooed to me, I was five years old and a muffin crumbling under the wrapper trying to keep polite eye contact but also
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Poets
Driving Lessons
Wednesdays in the Midwest were for tornadoes - well, drills, that is. / Walking backward with excitement, I waved the paperwork in my hands,
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Poets
F#
Hard chair-sitting, Ellie holds the violin at a sharp angle. I gentle her elbow and with an encouraging smile, move her into correct position.
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Fiction
A City's Mouth
We swayed as a group bumping along the subway's rails, each in a different stage of awakeness. / I cuddled down into hard seating,
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Poets
Joey
Joey goes to war and comes back with nine children. It sounds like a joke. Coos Frannie, large bracelets clanging on the diner table. She was prodding ice cream down into her glass with a straw, milling it before each sip.
By Lisa Habout a year ago in Fiction

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Lisa H

Bio

Achievements .css-19zxm0z-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(1)

Stories (33/0)

The Fisherman

Junction

Book, meet writer

Small hand on three

How to pour a cup of coffee

Barrie

"Saudade"

I Never Learn

Driving Lessons

F#

A City's Mouth

Joey

Subscribe to my stories

Send me a tip

Achievements (1)