Rootwork
It has been, now, thirteen years since I married Herbert Maxwell Cooper. We married on a warm day in late March — a wonderful day without a single drop of rain. I still have one of our invitations, I believe: Herbert and Carolyn, March 31, 1939. Together forever. We took our honeymoon in Jacksonville, Florida, and then we returned to the house Herbert had purchased not a year before in Savannah. I remember mornings filled with sunshine and bacon frying on the stove; afternoons sipping iced tea on the porch with my friends, most of whom were also getting married at that time; dinners with...
Read MoreA Fable
Once there was a bird. She was the finest of birds. She was all of the things that make birds desirable to us mere humans. She was quick-witted. She loved to laugh. She was kind beyond kindness. She was strong, yet delicate. Even though her heart had been wounded, she found a way to rise above. Her beauty, obvious on the outside, had its origin from within. In short, she was a bird among birds. She was one to be recognized on her own merits. She didn’t sing very much, for even though she had a wonderful voice, she had been told that it wasn’t acceptable. One day a weary traveler...
Read MoreWaiting for Signs
My mother believes in signs. A bird that alights on a branch near her kitchen window possesses the spirit of my dead grandfather, listening to us, guiding us forward. Pennies found on the street are good luck. God is here among us, she says, blessing us with His presence, dropping small miracles at our feet. I want to believe in these signs, but something stops me — the fact that I can never feel God no matter how hard I try. Staring at the ceiling from my bed at night, my prayers are all yearnings, wishes, poured out like coins into a cosmic slot machine. I always make the same request:...
Read MoreThe Incredible Melting Man
MELT ONE They arrived at the check-out line at the same time. Oops. Awkward, empty thought balloons. She pushed a full carriage; he held a quart of milk. “Go ahead,” she said with a quick gesture. “Oh no, no,” he said, shaking his head. “You go.” “No, please,” said the logic of her overflowing cart vs. his one-handed purchase. “Uh, ah…” And then he melted to the hard, scuffed floor, reduced to rivulets of green goo, and oozed under shelves of candy and tabloids. MELT TWO He was at work, standing at the time-clock, watching the minute hand. She was fanning...
Read MoreInto the Light of Things
Michael’s shiny Volvo slid across the ice and crashed into the grove… When he woke, Michael clambered from the wreckage, then floundered in the drifts — punching through with every step — … ‘til he reached the barren lane. Under the yellow of the stars, his breath plumed like an egret, and his boots crunched and squeaked. Blood spilled from his crown, hit the wintry air, and stiffened like black jelly. And Michael staggered on… He thought of his naughty Beagle pissing on the couch, and smirked. “Almost home, boy.” But the...
Read MoreHallucinations
When the unearthly being made her acquaintance, Claudia Linstrom was beginning her first year of ob/gyn practice at Montbleu Women’s Center. She had just finished four years of residency at Montbleu General under the tutelage of Dr. Raymond Pileggi, who was now, unfortunately, showing signs of dementia. Since being a child, she remembered wanting to be a “doctor for girls,” and now she felt assured that the field she had chosen was perfect for her. Occasionally, she had even fantasized about having a special mission to perform. Soon after starting at the center, she rented a more...
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