Melynda Kloc
Bio
always searching
always creating
always imagining
Stories (10/0)
I Like To Say, 'I Grew up Rough'
I like to say I grew up rough. When I say ‘I grew up rough’, I mean that my dad and his friends fashioned paddles out of two by fours and traded them with each other like trophies and their favorite one had thirty-six holes and it whistled through the air and snapped like a frozen lake that’s being walked on and isn’t quite strong enough to support weight, and that half-second breath before the ice splits, is the red lattice pattern that ring-worms itself through skin.
By Melynda Klocabout a year ago in Families
Chasing Chad
Slivers of light sneak through the blinds and catch my eyes. My arms drift above my head as a stretch tackles my body. I pull myself from the couch and realize the time. 2:18am. A smile slips across my face; I forgot about the time change. I forgot about the flight. I forgot how I got here, why I’m here, all of it.
By Melynda Klocabout a year ago in Families
