I'm a new writer trying to find my voice. Working under a pen name glad to see such a nice community.
Waffle House - Immune System of the SouthEast U.S.
I knew it was all going to hell when Waffle House closed down for more than three days. Waffle House is a staple of trucker diets, road trips, drunk expenditures, stoned experiments, and this-is-the-only-viable-option-out-here-besides-McDonalds, meals. It's hard to drive a significant distance across the Southeast without passing by at least three of those suckers. From Charleston to Savannah, Mobile to Richmond, and even some in the northeast if you can believe it.
Punished & Planted
June 18th, 2051. Santa Fe was green again. It wasn’t the stale suburban paradise of her childhood. Back then, families of four drove past beige strip malls, stucco houses, and medical offices, and couldn’t see the stars past the city lights. Now, desert brush cracked open cement roadways, and asphalt buckled over the roots of tall trees. Pristine HOA-approved lawns, unweeded for years, grew waist-high. Poison ivy twisted and curved around building corners, carefully threading through broken windows. And Mexican flame vine, with its vermilion leaves and violent orange blooms, crept over garden walls. From certain angles, she couldn’t see a single piece of manmade construction; only an unbroken landscape of plants and trees.
Breadcrumbs for Girlhood.
Sometimes, it is the quiet stories that speak the loudest. Perhaps that's why I never fell in love with the Harry Potter series like so many others. I had no trouble suspending my disbelief for magic and mystery, but few characters from the series stuck with me. They were either too awkward, too talented, too proud, too evil, or too good. Moments that were meant to resonate with children coming-of-age always seemed to miss the mark. Every single character 'fit,' even if they made a blunder or were an outsider, they all belonged on the chessboard, with their unique moves.
I Follow the River
In all my days, I'd never been free And though I lived in a US southern state, Where you should hear liberty's plea, But you only hear wheels of deadly fate.
Someone else's home, someone else's dream, Someone else's books, and someone else's land, Who would know more of the trees and stream, Who knew the mountain well and could understand.
So... My Mother is Literally Ron Swanson.
I know someone who is a divorced, libertarian, nature lover, and parent to two daughters. Sound familiar? If you've watched NBC's iconic Parks & Recreation series, you are probably thinking of Ron Swanson. You would be correct in that assumption - because my mother is literally Ron Swanson. I'm serious when I say the only significant differences are dietary, and only slight at that. My mother doesn't eat red meat, but she isn't vegan or vegetarian. She has no woodworking skill, but she is rather handy and appreciates good craftsmanship.
Blue is never really Blue. ~ The ocean isn't blue, the water is clear, And often seems grey or green - not blue. The sky isn't blue, gasses are invisible,
Sweet & Sour
Under pink and purple skies, That bathed endless green fields, I wanted for orange sherbert kisses From girls in lace or leather