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Tag Archives: Little Boxes
My sixth grade hall locker haunts me in my nightmares. Of course, there’s a story behind that, and of course, it really has nothing to do with the locker itself. The stress of middle school began long before the first … Continue reading
This post contains some language and imagery that might be considered uncharacteristically sexually explicit for me. Some time ago, I left a comment for Marian Green in response to a beautiful and inspiring post of hers called Whisper. What I … Continue reading
Four-year-old Alex… well, she’s almost four… sits alone in her room. The voices of men from the other room are laughing and happy. It hurts her. It’s lonely where she sits. She knows she’s supposed to be lying down, but … Continue reading
Cute, young English major on a tennis scholarship meets future doctor or lawyer. We fall in love, get married and become that happy couple I saw in the magazine ads. I suppose we live happily ever after in Suburbia too… … Continue reading
“Afternoon, Ma’am, are you here to pick up a prescription?” “No, not a prescription. My friend said he called in an order for me.” “Sure, let me check that for you. And what name would that be under?” “Schilde. S-C-H-I-L-D-E…” … Continue reading
I wrote my name upon a wall and left it there to stay a salty tongue licked patiently while no one watched it fade away Jessi and I lay side-by-side on the beach staring out over the calm surface of … Continue reading
Sandy woke up with a splitting headache. It was more than a week now since she’d hiked, not since Rick left. The lingering withdrawal was a hammer forging the last argument against the anvil of her temple. The coffee pot … Continue reading