Teralyn Pilgrim
Bio
Teralyn Pilgrim has an MFA in Creative Writing from Western New England University and a BA in English from Brigham Young University. Her work has been published in the Copperfield Review.
Stories (11/0)
Voodoo Queen
Catherine washed her hands in a blue porcelain bowl as her daughter groaned on the mahogany four-poster bed. Childbirth was difficult enough without this tortuous heat. Marguerite’s nightgown was translucent with sweat, and its wetness clung to her breasts and her stomach. Catherine used a paper fan to give Marguerite’s face a little relief.
By Teralyn Pilgrim3 years ago in Fiction
A Stranger in the Cul-de-Sac
Janey should not have smacked Derick’s hand. All he did was reach for the platter of sugar cookies that were shaped like carrots. He had strained his arm and toes up as high as he could and had barely brushed the edge of one with his little finger tips. He was so determined, Avery almost thought her son deserved to have it. She was deciding whether or not to stop him when Janey’s hand shot out. It made a sharp tap sound as she made contact. Avery’s stomach dropped so sharply that it hurt.
By Teralyn Pilgrim3 years ago in Fiction
Seconds
The man sat alone in the restaurant at a round table in a nook with a cushioned bench. The place where he had chosen to sit was dimly lit and secluded from the other guests, though many of them still noticed how jittery he was. He could hardly sit still, as if the bench were made of rocks and he couldn’t get comfortable. His leg bounced, and it made a taptaptaptap on the floor until he put his hand on his knee and it stopped. The man took a comb out of his back pocket and smoothed his hair, which was salt-and-pepper gray but not balding, and put the comb back. The napkin wasn’t perfectly straight, so he adjusted it.
By Teralyn Pilgrim3 years ago in Fiction
Why the Tulsa Race Massacre Matters
I had a hard time with Black Lives Matter when the movement first started. All my life, I was taught to trust cops. I had no reason not to trust cops. Suddenly, people were telling me that they gun down innocent people just because they’re black?
By Teralyn Pilgrim3 years ago in The Swamp
My Neuro-divergent Child, Who Makes Art Out of Everything
You need to wake up and smell the roses, read the letter in my hand. A three-year old who can’t talk is NOT NORMAL. Your daughter obviously has autism or a learning disorder. I suggest you spend less time writing and more time caring for your child’s needs.
By Teralyn Pilgrim3 years ago in Families
Why I'm Asking for Tips to Visit a Women's Only Village In Africa
I was at a low point in my life. To work my husband through college, I moved 2,500 miles away from my home, my family, and my friends. I took an office job as a temp where I had nothing to do. I was bored, and I was lonely.
By Teralyn Pilgrim3 years ago in Viva
Address to Nowhere
Based on a true story. David was living the wrong kind of life. He decided this, all of a sudden, right as he was lifting his key into the hole of a tin mail box in his apartment complex. A group of rogue teenage boys were kicking something around on a lobby floor splotched with stains, laughing louder than they needed to. An elderly man carried his cane and his mail tucked under his arm as he left without saying hello. Everything was the same, and David couldn’t pinpoint anything that would suddenly motivate him to reevaluate his life. Maybe it was that sameness that finally got to him.
By Teralyn Pilgrim3 years ago in Motivation