Freelance writer, artist. Single mother, survivor of toxic spouse. Lifelong Texan, worked full time since 15. Never traveled but seen a few things. I never fear shadows. I'm always hopeful for what the world brings around the next bend.
Edge of Lightening
The table had been cleared a while. Annie handed the table over to the next shift waitress, who kept their drinks filled as the lunch rush came and went. Seth busied herself with the crayons and pencils that Annie had left with her, and Mike leafed through the local Tucson paper. The new waitress joined them, and Mike asked if she would stay for a moment while he used to phone.
Edge of Lightning
Detective Fitch sat uncomfortably in the Commander’s office, waiting. He was really too large of a man for the chair. He didn’t know where to put his hands, and his shoulder holster interfered with the backrest. He looked at the file on the desk, closed, but some pictures spilled out. He was really nowhere on the investigation and wasn’t even sure if that was why he was called into the office. He heard a toilet flush, water running, and shut off from behind a closed door in the office, and the door opened.
The Edge of Light
“I am Seth.” She sat expressionless, black eyes blinking slowly as she stared up at the officer. He squared off with her and leaned in to speak quietly but sound authoritative.
Failure to Refuse
I want to share a story of my first sexual experience. It serves for me as catharsis. I also hope to give gentle cautionary advice. My goal is for people to find courage when they're afraid to speak. This tale begins long ago in my life and comes full circle in the current era.
Just who is having this baby anyway?
The big day approaches, and everything is ready. All the newborn accoutrements are all in their designated places. You have a fresh supply of diapers, wipes, high octane coffee for your significant other, and bags packed for the trip to the delivery room. That's when the question gets dropped, "who is allowed in the delivery room?" Your mother-in-law asks to be in the delivery room. For a minute, you don't know what to think or how to respond.
The Pookini Incident
My husband and I took our kids to the beach at new year, despite a pending divorce. My youngest (5) asked to buy a "boo-kini" instead of her usual one piece. The story that follows is long and runny. If you vomit easily, you might want to keep scrolling. Sooooo all was okay the first night, but temps dropped ten degrees more than average before we could try out the new bathing suit at the beach. We go to the beach after having seafood lunch at a not so well advised "pirate tourist trap." The beach is pretty much what you expect if you know full well that it's at or around 49 degrees, rainy, and high winds, BUT STILL GO TO THE BEACH. Naturally, kids strip down to skivvies and hop into waves. I put jeans over my yoga pants, over my running leggings, and every long sleeve thing I brought under my sweatshirt and jacket. (I'm a Texas girl born and bred- I don't like to be cold. Seriously I've seen snow twice in my life, and I was over it pretty quick.) We attend to this fantastic Antarctic summer day. The kids are happily splashing around. "Almost ex," and I do our best not to chill the air further by talking to each other. After about a mile of strolling in this beautiful Alaskan storm, the kids are ready for a snack, and the youngest says she must use the bathroom. We begin to head back to the truck (I say truck, but it's a big Ford Excursion).