Monthly Archives: July 2013

a ~ After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

A Novel That Has No Title Yet Drey woke in a foul mood, mad mad mad at her husband. It was raining out. By the shape of the outside light she thought they were late, that they would have to

a ~ After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

A Novel That Has No Title Yet Drey woke in a foul mood, mad mad mad at her husband. It was raining out. By the shape of the outside light she thought they were late, that they would have to

b ~ After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

If I could, I would pack my bags today, head to Paris and live for awhile. I would take my typewriter and more paper than I think I will need to finally get these thoughts out of my head. I

b ~ After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

If I could, I would pack my bags today, head to Paris and live for awhile. I would take my typewriter and more paper than I think I will need to finally get these thoughts out of my head. I

a ~ After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

I’m not shopper. I mean, I’m not bad at it, but I rarely take pleasure in it. There’s the whole money thing, the stuff thing, the environmental thing, the space thing, the driving thing, the interacting with zombies thing –

a ~ After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

I’m not shopper. I mean, I’m not bad at it, but I rarely take pleasure in it. There’s the whole money thing, the stuff thing, the environmental thing, the space thing, the driving thing, the interacting with zombies thing –

b ~ After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

  We’ve finally arrived at the best part of the year. If you were to ask M his favorite season he would answer back without blinking an eye—Circus Season. Last week we picked T up from camp where he was

b ~ After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

  We’ve finally arrived at the best part of the year. If you were to ask M his favorite season he would answer back without blinking an eye—Circus Season. Last week we picked T up from camp where he was

a ~ To say I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all

On Sunday when I was collecting damp towels from the back porch railing, a wasp stung me in my hand. On Monday, Molly the pony died. When our neighbor dug her grave, he found gray dusty dirt that he said

a ~ To say I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all

On Sunday when I was collecting damp towels from the back porch railing, a wasp stung me in my hand. On Monday, Molly the pony died. When our neighbor dug her grave, he found gray dusty dirt that he said

b ~ To say I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all

  Winters here in Vermont are not often easy. After more than a decade I have adapted, though not necessarily flourished, in the colder temperatures. It is the interminably long season that we need to get through so that we

b ~ To say I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all

  Winters here in Vermont are not often easy. After more than a decade I have adapted, though not necessarily flourished, in the colder temperatures. It is the interminably long season that we need to get through so that we

b ~ To roll it toward some overwhelming question,

I said, “Will she be the same?” The old woman guffawed, as if I had said the funniest thing in the universe. “Nothing’s ever the same,” she said. “Be it a second later or a hundred years. It’s always churning and roiling.

b ~ To roll it toward some overwhelming question,

I said, “Will she be the same?” The old woman guffawed, as if I had said the funniest thing in the universe. “Nothing’s ever the same,” she said. “Be it a second later or a hundred years. It’s always churning and roiling.