Suzy Jacobson Cherry
Writer. Artist. Educator. Interspiritual Priestess. I write poetry, fiction, nonfiction, and thoughts on stuff I love.
Glamour — The Apprentice
It was the day before the New Year according to the calendar on the wall, though just a couple of months past there had been great parties for the ancient celebrations of the turning wheel. Now a week past the Yuletide solstice, Wendy was ready to move into the coming days according to the society in which she lived. First, though, there were a few tasks to be completed.
Ten Poems in Honor of Female Japanese Poets
Full description of the photo above “Court Woman at her Desk with Poem Cards,” Woodblock print (surimono); ink and color on paper by Kubo Shunman, Edo period 1795. Made available by the Metropolitan Museum of Art under its Open Access program for CC0 unrestricted use
“I want to look beautiful,” the young woman said to the Witch. The Witch’s mouth widened in a smile that carried through to the glint of mischief in her eyes. She bid the woman sit, her open palm sweeping toward a soft velvet chair. The woman sat, sighing as she sunk into the deep comfort of a well-loved resting place.
Relationships in Early “ElfQuest”
In a previous story, How “ElfQuest” Enraptured Me as an Adult, I mentioned that the Elves in this comic don’t have any gender-based roles and no expectation of heterosexuality nor monogamy. In this story, I am going to address all of these points. I will do my best not to reveal too much about the plot. Also, this will not be an exhaustive treatment of the subject, because I want to encourage readers to discover these stories for themselves.
Lavender and Apples
She had fallen through the cracks. Just one more old woman, with nothing to show for her life but a shopping cart full of old clothes and canned goods, and a toothless grin. As darkness drew near, she parked her cart close to a live oak tree in the city park. She was careful to chock the wheels with rocks to make it more difficult to steal her belongings as she slept.
Melanie hustled about the kitchen making breakfast. She pushed the bread into the toaster, reached into the refrigerator, and pulled out the milk. She stepped across the small room and half-filled the two glasses. The children were already seated at the table, waiting patiently for their warm plate of scrambled eggs and toast. Melanie was thankful that it was a good morning. No temper tantrums or whining to slow her down.