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I’ve had many cats throughout my life and each one brought something special into our shared worlds. In many instances, they made my life better – or if not always better, do-able. . . .
“All set? Everything packed?” My husband Lee was always worried about being on time.
|
Regrets, I've had a few (2012) ~with apologies to Frank Sinatra Leigh M. O'Brien © Copyright 2024 by Leigh M. O'Brien  |
 Image by Aline Ponce from Pixabay |
For
this reason and that, I didn’t get pregnant with my daughter,
my only child, until I was 38, and she was born shortly after I
turned 39. As a late-in-life (and more-than-a-little anxious)
mother-to-be, I did all the “right” things during my
pregnancy: I stopped ingesting alcohol and caffeine two months before
I even started trying to get pregnant and took all the recommended
vitamins; I ate right, exercised moderately, and gained the
prescribed amount of weight. I had excellent medical care, my husband
and I dutifully attended weekly childbirth classes, and I had a
“picture-perfect” pregnancy according to my ob-gyn. . . .
|
Extended Family
©
Copyright 2024 by James L. Cowles |
|
My
wife and I recently arrived home after an afternoon, and evening,
family Thanksgiving dinner, and it got me thinking about something I
call, “extended family.” Actually, the host and hostess
from our dinner are not all direct family, but they seem like it.
They are the sister and her husband of our sister-in-law, the wife of
Teresa's brother. We have been invited, first because they like us
(and we, them), but more importantly, they know we would otherwise be
eating our dinner alone. . . .
|
The Comfort of Cats Leigh M. O'Brien © Copyright 2024 by Leigh M. O'Brien |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I’ve had many cats throughout my life and each one brought something special into our shared worlds. In many instances, they made my life better – or if not always better, do-able. . . .
When You Wish Upon A StarSherri J. Bale © Copyright 2024 by Sherri J. Bale |
 Image by Pfüderi from Pixabay |
Starlight,
star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have this wish I wish tonight.
I whispered to my pre-teen self, as I gazed out my bedroom window beyond the street lights.
I recited that poem religiously. My wish was always the same. . . .
First star I see tonight
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have this wish I wish tonight.
I whispered to my pre-teen self, as I gazed out my bedroom window beyond the street lights.
I recited that poem religiously. My wish was always the same. . . .
|
One
Day In London Town Ruth Truman Image by wal_172619 from Pixabay© Copyright 2024 by Ruth Truman |
“All set? Everything packed?” My husband Lee was always worried about being on time.
Later, innocently, we picked up our travel bags and stepped onto the inter-airport bus. Two great weeks in London had come to an end…a tear ran down my cheek. So quickly the time had gone. . . .
| My
Christmas Came Early That Year Rob Southerington © Copyright 2024 by Rob Southerington |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
. . . .I
would have been about the age of eleven and I just knew what I wanted
for Christmas; an electronic pocket calculator please! This was a
time when such gadgets seemed to be the work of science fiction and
James Bond. Oh, yes boy oh boy did I want to get in on the action. . . .
The Christmas CatJudith Nakken © Copyright 2024 by Judith Nakken  |
 Photo by Jim on Unsplash |
|
Fun Times On The Job
©
Copyright 2024 by James L. Cowles |
|
My
career in the insurance business was rather unique. Instead of
expecting relatives to become my first customers, we sold “fringe
benefits” (insurance policies) to small businesses, both owners
and employees. Believe me, I’m sure my relatives appreciated
that. In addition, many of our specialists, including myself, were
Chartered Life Underwriters (CLU), which is a designation earned
through ten college courses in insurance. It’s a little tough
to study and earn a designation, while also working every day, but we
claimed to be experienced professionals, and thus we were expected to
earn this designation. So, while some were relaxing after work, I was
studying. . . .
The Wrens and the TigerDeon Matzen © Copyright 2024 by Deon Matzen |
 Photo by Alexandre Loureiro at Pexels. |
This
is the time of year when lots of birds start to migrate south and
have stop-overs in my yard. Recently it was the varied thrush,
hundreds come through and flocks of them are in my woodland yard.
They are very shy and fly away quickly if they see me looking out the
kitchen window onto the back patio while they are using the two
birdbaths that are out there. . . .
|
A Christmas Day Twist of
Fate Joyce Benedict © Copyright 2021 by Joyce Benedict |
 Photo by MART PRODUCTION at Pexels. |
Christmas 1975. I had been separated from my second
husband for just over a year and raising my two preteen sons from a
previous marriage. The weeks before Christmas had been filled with
the usual gift buying, wrapping, baking, planning the holiday meal,
decorating, making and addressing cards, trimming the tree. Joyous
rituals done for years. I loved Christmas with its glitter, bright
colors, timeless carols.
A call came from the boys father. An
unforeseen
situation arose. Plans changed. My sons were to be
with
him not me on Christmas Day. He arrived Christmas Eve and whisked
them off to where he lived in Cold Spring, NY.
| My
Auntie Ellen Ezra Azra © Copyright 2024 by Ezra Azra |
 |
We
lived in the City of Durban, South Africa. Auntie Ellen was my
Mother’s elder unmarried sister. If Auntie Ellen had a home of
her own, I never knew where it was. Auntie Ellen had only one child,
Vivian, and she never told anybody who the father was, not even
Vivian. . . .
Crossing Borders, Finding Love: A Nigerian's Adventures In Benin And TogoAfolabi Abisola Oluwakemi © Copyright 2024 by Afolabi Abisola Oluwakemi |
 Photo by Yemi Festus at Wikimedia Commons. |
I’ve
always loved words. I have memories of hiding in the toilet to read
while ignoring every shout of my name to do chores at home as a young
girl. As a boarder in secondary school, I read everything and
anything. Including incomplete, passed-down novels and magazines way
outside my age group. My favorite gifts range from novels to
autobiographies and handwritten novels. Inspired by Mills and Boons
and Harlequin, I had dreams of being whisked off my feet by a dashing
handsome rake and living in a castle (or, at least, a mansion) for
the rest of my life. Imagine my shock as I grew up and realized there
were more frogs than princes among the Yoruba men resident in the
southwestern part of Nigeria, where I’ve lived all my life. . . .
Back to the RockRobert J. Rubis © Copyright 2024 by Robert J. Rubis
|
 Photo by Brett Stanley courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
It
was my first foray into the wilds of Australia although “the
Outback” had been on my Bucket List since college. A
librarians’ conference in Perth was the perfect opportunity to cross
this one off. Picking up a rental car at the airport instead of
checking into the conference hotel, I spent every free moment of the
next four days travelling up and down the coast from Perth, and then,
conference over, turning my back on the city and heading straight
inland, destination Kallgoorlie, 600 kilometres due east. . . .
Dvidesimt Trys . . . and CountingKathy Couhlin © Copyright 2024 by Kathy Coughlin |
 Photo of map courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
For
someone who didn't cry easily, I sobbed uncontrollably that August
day on the cold, linoleum floor of an unfurnished flat in
Marijampole, Lithuania. Exhausted after 27 hours of traveling, I
wondered why I was here. I was also distraught that my husband's and
my plan to connect by phone before my transatlantic flight in New
York had somehow gone awry. In pre-cell phone 1998--what now seems
like the Dark Ages of communication--we were separated by 4,621
miles of silence. I had never felt more alone in my life. . . .
Qatar AirwaysAdegoke Precious Daniel © Copyright 2024 by Adegoke Precious Daniel |
 https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Md_Shaifuzzaman_Ayon |
It was a joyous evening, Favour and her family had just got back from the market to get the final things she'll need for her journey. Favour's flight ticket had been booked for October 5 which was a Saturday, from Lagos to Berlin, Bradenburg Airport in Germany by 6pm. Favour had graduated a year ago and was going to Germany for her Master's degree program in University of Bonn Germany. Everyone had to sleep early because they'll have to wake up as early as 3am to get prepared so as not to miss the flight and the train from Ibadan to Lagos the next morning. . . .
Broken PedalA Contour of Life EventsEsther Ozioma Chukwuchebe © Copyright 2024 by |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I
am stuck, and this wasn't the first time, this was my line of thought
as I woke up this morning. The sun was up earlier than it was
instructed to, and folks around my region warmed up to it's
disobedience, nothing as good as vitamin D from a natural element.
Speaking of natural elements, is a twenty-seven almost twenty-eight
year old lady lying on the bed, with a plan to remain at that spot
just as she was when she entered this world. This has been my
disposition for the past three months, minus every other year it
occurred repeatedly, I just wanted to lay down and not do anything.
The plan was to just rest, freeze time, and eat later, but you see
the latter was even the hardest. Life sure knows how to strike a
balance. . . .
To Give A Helping HandAnika Shringi © Copyright 2024 by Anika Shringi |
 Rwanda refugee camp. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
This
story takes place in 1995, when my father, a young man, saw the
opportunities to
help others in a war-torn country, risking his own life along with
200 brave aid volunteers at the United Nations to help a country left
in ruins. At a jungle camp near the borders of Lake Victoria, Dhruv
got his first glimpse of the life of poverty and the disastrous
aftermath of war. . . .
Cyber Bully Abroad or Boring in KoreaAn essay excerpt from Tough Talk out of School, an Education MemoirS. Keyron McDermott © Copyright 2024 by S. Keyron McDermott |
 Image by StockSnap from Pixabay |
Kyungnam University is a collection of landscaped buildings scattered up a nearly vertical hillside on the south coast of Korea above the port of Masan. Above and behind the university a few lowly dwellings squat along a steep street, and then yield to terrace gardens and rice paddies. During the1994-5 academic year most of Kyungnam’s foreign, which is to say non-Korean English staff (a dozen of us) Aussies, Brits, Canuks and Yanks, is housed on the top floors of a brand new residence hall at the first crest of the hill. English HQ and our classrooms are in older buildings closer to the bottom—doesn’t take long to figure out why Koreans are thin! . . .
Museum of Yearnings and ScribblesVishaal Pathak © Copyright 2024 by Vishaal Pathak |
 Photo of Dubrovnik, courtesy of the author. |
It’s
late October, 2016. On a cold, windy night, I’m sitting at an
intersection at the centre square in Zagreb. There’re people
partying, dancing away. It’s kind of a festival, I think.
Everything looks as if right out of a popular sitcom set in the 90s –
when times were simpler; bell-bottoms, biker jackets were still the
in-thing. I’m not sure what the celebration is about; I don’t
understand the language either, but the music sure is groovy. . . .
| Scribble Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan
|
 Photo by Steve DiMatteo on Unsplash |
Why
write? Why take the trouble? Why all this scribble, scribble,
scribble?
It might be understandable if I had written from my early years but I didn’t. I read voraciously, almost anything that came to hand. I was hardly discriminating. I would sit at a table in the school library with a volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica, scanning the pages for anything of interest, and I remember doing so many times — a welcome substitute for the indignities of the playground. But I never wrote anything beyond a classroom assignment. . . .
It might be understandable if I had written from my early years but I didn’t. I read voraciously, almost anything that came to hand. I was hardly discriminating. I would sit at a table in the school library with a volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica, scanning the pages for anything of interest, and I remember doing so many times — a welcome substitute for the indignities of the playground. But I never wrote anything beyond a classroom assignment. . . .
Munnar ChurchSharon Alice Christy Ponmudi © Copyright 2024 by Sharon Alice Christy Ponmudi |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
. . . The early 20th century colonial church reared its head proudly amidst the chaos, confusion and car-smoke of Munnar town. Steep stone steps carved into the side of the hillock led up to the church. My knees ached after the arduous climb, but I was happy to finally take in the sight of this Scottish-Indian marvel. . . .
A Wild JungleBushra Khalique © Copyright 2024 by Bushra Khalique |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
. . . I
remember those days when I was a child, sitting in the back of my
father’s car, with my eyes glued to the window. Every road we
didn’t take, every side-street choked with dead leaves and
gnarly, old trees was enchanting. Like that one special warehouse
which is visible from a certain point on the new flyover, which from
a distance looks like it’s been decorated for Christmas, or
that faded red brick building which I think is a boarding-school, but
have never asked. That feeling of anticipation, the thrill of not
knowing what exactly lies beyond those barriers was delicious. . . .
Hydrangeas and Hairpin BendsA family's (mis)adventures in paradiseSheila Lorimer © Copyright 2024 by Sheila Lorimer |
 Photo by Cheung Yin on Unsplash |
How did we end up on an island in the middle of the Atlantic standing in the pouring rain, gawping at an empty carpark we couldn’t see? Five intelligent adults, looking very stupid.
It began with a Christmas present. A travel book showcasing one exotic location for every month of the year. Rio de Janeiro in January for the carnival. Tokyo in April to see the cherry blossoms. Venice in November, when the crowds have abated and the mists roll in off the Adriatic.
“Let’s pick a random page,” said my daughter, casually flicking through the book. “The Azores in July.”. . .
More....
The View From Mt. NeboMargaret Bolte © Copyright 2024 by Margaret Bolte |
 Photo by Vyacheslav Argenberg at Wikimedia Commons. |
Standing
on a solid rock of this mountain, the view is spectacular. My eyes
had to adjust to the landscape that seemed so far in the ongoing
distance; this is a boundness view in front of me. Hard limestone
hills with clumps of trees that look like large dots on a painting
spread on a barren land background. This is Mt. Nebo and now part of
the country of Jordan. . . .
| You Won't Believe. . . A Day In The Gobi June Calender © Copyright 2021 by June Calender |
 PPhoto courtesy of Wikimeda Commons. |
Our
group of sixteen piled into three ugly old Russian troop carriers (the
Land Rover substitute in Mongolian tourist travel). Each had a driver
and his helper whose job was to make sure the driver stayed on the
faint tracks in the unmarked expanse of flat brown dessert. . . .
Remember "Likability"?Morf Morford © Copyright 2024 by Morf Morford |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
Candidate
Barack Obama
described his adversary on the Democratic ticket, Hillary Clinton, as
“likable enough”.
Not “likable” enough to be elected apparently.
In the 2020s as you may have noticed, “likability” has lost its popular appeal.
Political
candidates,
at all levels, at least in some areas, prefer “American
carnage”. . . .
Japan's Lost DecadeHugh McGlinchey © Copyright 2024 by Hugh McGlinchey |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
“Go home, Yankee.”
It was 1988. The American dollar was struggling and Japanese yen was soaring so high that the joke was they should have bought Pearl Harbor instead. Japan’s economy rose to number two in the world and it was feeling really good about itself. This partly explained the young man screaming at me from the other end of the train car pulling out of Yokohama Station. The prodigious amount of saké he had drunk accounted for the rest. . . .
It was 1988. The American dollar was struggling and Japanese yen was soaring so high that the joke was they should have bought Pearl Harbor instead. Japan’s economy rose to number two in the world and it was feeling really good about itself. This partly explained the young man screaming at me from the other end of the train car pulling out of Yokohama Station. The prodigious amount of saké he had drunk accounted for the rest. . . .
Touching The SunBenjamin Hess © Copyright 2024 by Benjamin Hess |
 Photo of author atop Chimborazo. |
“This is as far as I get,” I
thought, watching helplessly as one of my crampons slid down over the
icy surface until I could no longer see it with my headlamp. I dug my
ax into the glacier and dragged myself over to an exposed boulder,
gasping for oxygen. My climbing partner Chad stood next to me. Though
he remained silent, I could tell he was furious. After scrambling along
paths of rocks and scree for three hours, I had done a poor job
attaching my crampons in preparation for the more technical ascent over
snow and ice. Now it looked like we would have to call off our summit
attempt as a result of my carelessness. . . .
Iceland's Geothermal Hot PotsSarah Nash © Copyright 2024 by Sarah Nash |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
Taking
your clothes off in minus five-degree celsius weather is one of the
more counter-intuitive activities. You really have to override your
brain, which kicks up a rousing chorus of, “You’re
probably going to lose your feet.”. . .
The Good SeatsSarah Nash © Copyright 2024 by Sarah Nash |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
My
very first overseas trip was to Romania. Our family has never been
very
conventional.
The
best way to spend some quality time with your cousins who you haven’t
seen in ages because they moved overseas is to all pile into a Kombi
and go on a road trip through the countryside that is so beautiful
and full of people poking hay with forks that it reminds you of that
movie your mom loves, Fiddler on the Roof. . . .
Jaipur: A Heri-stageA
tourist’s take on deframing heritage
Mansi Pund © Copyright 2024 by Mansi Pund |
 Photo of Jaipur, India courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
Millions of orange lasers pierced the dull blue sky and lit up the city of Jaipur. I was standing at the Nahargarh Sunrise Point, the one famous for its picturesque sunrise and view of the city. A picture to remember indeed. The Jaipur in front of me was as awake as the one behind me. In front of me was a dynamic expanse of a 300-year-old civilization established in 1727 by Raja Jai Sing II. . . .
I Still RememberOlvens Louissaint © Copyright 2024 by Olvens Louissaint |
 Photo from the author. |
There
are, in this life, many things that are difficult to forget, despite
the strife of time that makes your mind ditch those memories that,
formerly, let you taste happiness at the beginning of your
journey here below, alongside the many challenges that are always
encountered as life begins. . . .
Parisian ParalysisFranklin Wiener © Copyright 2024 by Franklin Wiener |
 Image by Pexels from Pixabay |
The
sun crept slowly over the wing of the Pan Am 747 as the sky turned
from a deep, soulful purple to a cool, pastel
blue. On the
horizon glowed a distant strip of flaming red where the sky met the
sea. At the unripe age of 22, fresh out of my college graduation and
an extended summer job, I was 30,000 feet over the Atlantic, absorbed
in anxious thoughts of the future as I viewed my world from an
entirely new perspective. It was the fall of 1971.
Behind
me lied my torn and battered country, the United States of America,
still very much at war in Southeast Asia, at war with
itself. I
myself was wounded from years of frustration and despair, fighting
the battle at home. . . .
A Visit To Costa RicaFranklin Wiener © Copyright 2024 by Franklin Wiener |
 Photo by Alejandro Orozco at Pexels. |
In the black night, the
American Airlines wide-body jet dipped low over the hills of Guatemala
City, glittering with thousands of tiny lights. The
cabin lights were suddenly switched on, and my travel-weary eyes
struggled to adapt to the invasive glare. Once we
landed, the cabin lights were suddenly switched on as my travel-weary
eyes struggled to adapt to the invasive glare. As
soon as we parked at the gate, armed soldiers immediately boarded and
walked cautiously through the aisles, studying the bewildered
passengers. I hadn’t noticed any passengers deplaning in Guatemala, but
once the soldiers completed their examination, a few passengers
boarded, and we were soon aloft again, flying over the sparkling slopes
that surrounded the impoverished Central American country’s capital. . . .
| Star
Crossed Addison Daily © Copyright 2024 by Addison Daily |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I
placed the roses and daisies you left me pressed between my favorite
book given to me by you. To preserve them forever in my little box of
collected moments, nestled between the little notes and letters you
wrote to me; so I could gaze upon them always. . . .
|
The Answer
|
|
One exceptionally fine
spring day in 1952, two adventurous cousins, Ezekiel (Zeke) and
Zachary (Zach) Dodge, ages 14 and 13, respectively, were
contemplating a decision. They were being raised near a Missouri
village on one of the many arms of the Lake of the Ozarks, and on
this particular day the boys jointly decided to start their summer
vacation a day early; that is, the pair’s final adventure of
the school year would end by skipping the last day of school. . . .
Quality Life MindsetMuhammad Taufik © Copyright 2024 by Muhammad Taufik |
 Lithograph after S. Baptiste at Wikimedia Commons. |
To
live successfully, people must have life sciences both from formal
schools but also from non-formal schools called schools of life.
There are successful people because of formal education but he is not
successful in the school of life or vice versa. Formal schools are
based on intellectual intelligence while non-formal schools are based
on emotional intelligence. When the two bits of intelligence run in
balance then the person not only succeeds in facing life's obstacles
but also successfully gets peace of life. . . .
Plus One PerspectiveGeorge R. Frost © Copyright 2024 by George R. Frost |
 Photo by Bryan Santos: at Pexels. |
I
am here to offer you my plus one perspective. Even though I was five
years old at this plus one event, I was unaccompanied. Let’s
face it, plus one means very little to a five-year-old even if he’s
running loose at his father’s wedding. . . .
Arriving Back To The Land Of The LivingKelly Maida © Copyright 2024 by Kelly Maida |
 Photo by RDNE Stock project: at Pexels. |
For the
longest time I was an abandoned house in a sense. It took a lot of
going within and healing work to figure this out. For me to return back
to the land of the living, I had to figure out what happened? . . .
| Sweet Memory Sara Etgen-Baker © Copyright 2024 by Sara Etgen-Baker |
 Photos courtesy of the author.. |
Sweetie
Pig has been around for decades. As the story goes, Sweetie Pig was
my great grandmother's wedding gift to Grammy. ‘Sweetie’
was a heavy and rather large ceramic pig, a Shawnee Pottery Smiley
Pig, who graced the top of my grandmother's countertop. ‘Sweetie’s’
commodious belly provided my brothers and me with unique cookies not
typically found in our own home. "Just one cookie," Grammy
would always tell us, never allowing us to overindulge. . . .
Kepler SorrowDaniel Hero © Copyright 2024 by Daniel Hero |
 Photo by Eric Ward on Unsplash |
August 10th. That was the
actual day. The day my boon companion died. It wasn’t the day I mourned
him. Those days started seven years ago. It really hit me when he was
four years old. The knowledge that he would come to his last day. I
remember that day vividly, we were out taking a walk, which we did
everyday unless the weather was so bad neither one of us was willing –
those days were few indeed. We were out walking, him just a few feet in
front of me, sniffing along the trail, and it began in my solar plexus,
a mixture between a flutter and a clench, a trembling in my chin, my
nose filling with mucus, the hot tears spilling from both eyes, the gut
certainty that he would leave me, draw his last breath, be no more. . . .
| The
Lord God Made Them All Sara Etgen-Baker Photos courtesy of the author. © Copyright 2024 by Sara Etgen-Baker |
 Eddie, Sara, Dave, and Fritz von Etgen |
I
stepped off the back porch and approached Fritz’s doghouse,
which was nestled beneath his favorite spot under the shade of my
family’s sprawling pecan tree. Using our shared German
language, I hollered: “Fritz! Kommen Sie hier—
Abendessen!”. . .
| Spring
Clean-A-Thon Sara Etgen-Baker Photos courtesy of the author. © Copyright 2024 by Sara Etgen-Baker |
 Granny's heirloom cedar chest |
“I’m
in the mood to do some spring cleaning,” Mom announced during
breakfast. My brothers fidgeted in their seats, for they were not
fans of Mom’s annual Spring Clean-a-Thon.
“Would
love to help, but gotta run, Mom! I have basketball practice today,”
my older brother said, hastily pushing his chair away from the table.
“Come on, little bro, you’re with me. Remember, you’re
the ball boy today.” . . .
| Plantin'
Season Sara Etgen-Baker Photos courtesy of the author. © Copyright 2024 by Sara Etgen-Baker |
 Granny and Aunt Betty |
 Dad and Me. |
March was and still is my favorite month of the year. Even now, I enjoy breathing in the crisp, clean air and watching the trees begin to blossom. The days grow longer and warmer; the birds chirp once again, heralding spring’s arrival. More importantly, though, March is ‘plantin’ season,’ as Dad liked to call it. March was the month when he transformed our backyard into a bountiful garden full of fresh fruits and vegetables. . . .
Her Name Was TrudyClaire Frances Maley © Copyright 2024 by Claire Frances Maley |
 IImage courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
Her
name was Trudy. She was fourteen when I met her, her neck was covered
in green love bites, and she spoke in grunts. In a list of names of
teens that I was to support, my boss circled Trudy’s name and
tapped her pen beside her name with every word she spoke.
Nobody works with her for long, she said. My eyebrows lifted and my boss added one word.
Violent. . . .
Nobody works with her for long, she said. My eyebrows lifted and my boss added one word.
Violent. . . .
Why Won't They Bring Me My Baby? Memoir
of an lDA (Late
Discovery Adoptee)
Anne McEncroe © Copyright 2024 by Anne NcEncroe |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
. . . . Imagine
discovering at seventy years old that your entire life was built on a
lie. In 2015, while shopping at Bunnings, I received a phone alert
that shattered my world. The message from my ‘brother’
told me that I was adopted. . . .
Banana Ice CreamCailin Frankland © Copyright 2024 by Cailin Frankland |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
“What types are there?” Grandad directed the question to nobody in particular, squinting at the labels taped to the ice cream display counter. I must have been eleven or twelve at the time—old enough to know that elderly people sometimes needed help with things, but still young enough to be profoundly embarrassed to have to do the helping. . . .
A Success Story From HarlemJavier Sarmiento © Copyright 2024 by Javier Sarmiento |
 Image by Aleksandr Schukin from Pixabay |
I grew up in one of the less glamorous parts of New York City; Harlem. As a young black man from a disadvantaged neighborhood, the odds were already stacked against me. Instead of letting those determine my fate, I decided to make the most of the life I had been given and make a future for myself. . . .
'Uncle' DavidMandy Horne © Copyright 2024 by Mandy Horne |
 Photo by cottonbro studio at Pexels. |
I look at ‘Uncle’ David nervously, but also quite excitedly, as he gives me a one pound note for a trip to the shop. We call him Uncle because he has asked us to but he isn’t a real uncle, not like Mum’s brother, Uncle George. He’s Mum’s new friend and seems to be here at our house quite a bit, often when Mum is out working as well as when she’s at home. . . .
The Day He Left UsMandy Horne © Copyright 2024 by Mandy Horne |
 Photo by Anastasia Shuraeva at Pexels. |
Squashed
in the back of her
grandad’s
greeny-blue Ford
Cortina with her nan
(dress size 22) and younger sister Tracey, Donna counted
the cars going past on the other side of the road as she day-dreamed
the journey away. She felt travel sick and it helped to look out of
the window and distract herself from the queasy and dizzy feeling she
had. She was dreading going over the flyover as she knew it was on
the road home, just as it had been on the way there. It was the worst
part of the journey. . . .
SinterklaasHetty Willeumier © Copyright 2024 by Hetty Willeumier |
 Photo by Michelle Zappe at Wikimedia Commons. |
Because my father hailed from Holland, our December didn’t really resemble the festivities of our neighborhood friends. First of all... we started the celebration earlier; December 5th! And... the tradition was a bit different from the usual ”Jolly Old Saint Nicholas/Santa Claus theme” because “our friendly old man” rode a white horse; visiting from Spain, on a steamboat! He was a bishop; accompanied by a dark Moor… the manservant; Black Piet! . . .
More...
Sweet Florida Memories On My MindLeigh Ann Kingston © Copyright 2024 by Leigh Ann Kingston |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
My
feet are firmly planted on Texas soil, yet a piece of my heart
remains back in Florida where I was born. I spent the first three
years of my life in a small rural town near the banks of the Suwannee
River. Naturally, I have no memories of that time, but the years that
followed provided me plenty as my family and I made annual trips back
to visit our loved ones. . . .
Two MinutesHannah Stoppe © Copyright 2024 by Hannah Stoppe |
 Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay Photo by |
Locked away in the bathroom with my thoughts, sitting on the floor. Just two minutes, is what I tell myself as I recount how I got here. It all started online, meeting a guy who seemed sweet and kind, gentle even. Everything felt perfect. . . .
The Wrong TowerMandy Tedford © Copyright 2024 by Mandy Tedford |
 Image by Erik Karits from Pixabay |
The
elevator creaked and hummed as it pushed us up the tower and to the
fourth floor. It sat silent just long enough for me to enter panic
mode before the doors jerked open. A darkened, musty room dotted with
chairs yawned before us. I looked at the panel and the 4 was lit up
indicating the floor we needed, but obviously something was amiss.
, , ,
Hermit CrabsClaire Frances Maley © Copyright 2024 by Claire Frances Maley |
 Image by stokpic from Pixabay |
Gulls cry in the threatening sky. Pound shops hide behind steel shutters and amusement arcades silently sleep. My coat billows behind me and my steps echo on the pavement. With my arms twisted around my body, I push forward along the steep street. I remember visiting this town as a child; sandcastles, knickerbocker glories, smiles. It’s always different when you return to a cherished place as an adult, especially when you return to that place to live and work. . . .
12 Week Trip Around The United StatesMarch 11 to June 3, 2019 Mark Seliber © Copyright 2024 by Mark Seliber |
 Photo courtesy of the author. II started my trip in Boston and halfway through was at the other end of the longest US highway in the country - US 20, 3,365 miles from Boston to Newport, Oregon, on the beautiful Oregon coast. |
Ever
since reading John Steinbeck’s last book ‘Travels with
Charley” in the early 1960’s, I planned to take a trip
all around the United States. I finally did it, two years after
retiring from work and, very fortunately, exactly one year before
COVID shut down the world. . . .
You Need To BreatheMorf Morford © Copyright 2024 by Morf Morford |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
There’s
two kinds of teachers in the world; those who batter and intimidate
with their “knowledge” and others who are, at the most
basic level, learners and listeners and live to share what they know.
Real
learning is not always comfortable; wide reading and open-minded
listening means to encounter, respectfully, opinions and sources that
have not been encountered before – and that may not be welcome,
appreciated or even understood. . . .
Hoot Owl HollerMandy Tedford © Copyright 2024 by Mandy Tedford |
 Image by Erik Karits from Pixabay |
This is a story handed down to me by my grandmother, Leona Rizley Lane, regarding an eerie experience she had as a child while living in a tiny sharecropper’s community called Thornsberry located in the Ozark Mountains of Northwest Arkansas. They called it a ‘haint’ that would moan during the night and seemed to be emitting from a small cave nearby; however, nothing was ever found. I've filled in a gap here and there to create a story, but overall, this is what she told me time and time again. . . .
Dawn of DreamsRuth Ticktin © Copyright 2019 by Ruth Ticktin |
 Photo collage of Katz family courtesy of Matt Stein. |
I have learned a little of where I am from and the name of my great-greats. I am proud to be one of Jakob and Malka’s heirs, left to envision the past. When traced back several generations, the family of Jakob and Malka can be verified. Now I can imagine stories based on what is known and surmise the rest. . . .
Free Man of the CityDebra Reeves © Copyright 2024 by Debra Reeves |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
One
of the great luxuries of marrying your beloved in one’s latter
years is time. Neither of us are running from pillar to post to
accomplish something vital. We have space to reflect on the times of
our lives. In one of those peaceful interludes in our living room in
rural Canada, I learned something gobsmacking about my English
husband. . . .
She Is Still HereAlice Musukwa © Copyright 2024 by Alice Musukwa |
 Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko at Pexels. |
The
room was too small in my opinion, I kept bumping into people as I
tried to find the card written computer science. I had lost Joyce my
best friend in the midst of the madness by this time, I think she had
gone off to sign up for Biology. I would find her later I told
myself, my main goal at that point was to find the computer science
desk quickly and sign up before I lost my nerve. . . .
JosephineLisa Marie Miller © Copyright 2024 by Lisa Marie Miller |
 Photo courtesy of Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels. |
The person who lovingly said “yes” the most was also the person who knew how to say “no.” On March 5, 2025, Josephine Mistretta Albano would have turned 110. Still, my grandmother did manage to grace Brooklyn and the world for ninety-eight years, moving sweetly and marching assertively through the early twentieth century, right into the next millennium. She lost neither her smile nor her stride as she saw the Jazz Age, Great Depression, World Wars, changing times and technological innovations. She belonged to all of them, that is, as far as she chose to. I was just fortunate that she belonged to me. . . .
The Heart of a Village ChiefJannine Maris M. Turno © Copyright 2024 by Jannine Maris M. Turno |
 Cesar and his wife Elena. Photo by the author. |
Cesar
Tanlas Malanday was born on May 4, 1942, in Diongan, Jose Dalman,
Zamboanga del Norte, Philippines. As a boy, his family lived in such
poverty that he had to take on the responsibility of caring for his
two younger brothers. One was still a baby, and the other too young
to fend for himself. After their mother tragically passed away during
childbirth, Cesar had no choice but to bring the baby and his brother
to the nearest neighbor, where a nursing mother could breastfeed the
infant to survive. . . .
Our Journey with Lewy Body DementiaElizabeth (Betty) Philips Editors Joseph F. Yukish, Jr., PhD, Emeritus Professor of Education (Betty’s Brother) Commander Kelly M. (Mezan) Fath, Chief, Marine Medicine, Office of Health Services, US Public Health Service Commission Corps (Betty’s Daughter) © Copyright 2024 by Elizabeth (Betty) Philips |
 William (Bill) K. Philips. Photo courtesy of the author. |
Bill
and I got married in 1992. We were divorced from our first spouses
and sought to give each other a peaceful and happy life. We were
married for 31 years. We never argued; life was good. I never got to
travel with my first husband. Still, with Bill, we went to the beach
many times, enjoyed three cruises, visited family out of state, went
to a Clemson game, loved visiting Charleston and Savanna, Tucson, AZ,
and New York, and visited the Baltimore Mansion in Asheville, NC,
three times. . . .
Peace At LastKaren Gonzales © Copyright 2024 by Karen Gonzales |
 Image by Pexels from Pixabay |
For those of you that are reading this story, you might feel I'm ripping off Christina Crawford or Gypsy-Rose Blanchard, but I'm not. I too had to survive my own form of emotional, verbal, and sometimes even physical abuse at the hands of a woman that was supposed to give me unconditional love and acceptance. . . .
My Trip to Northern Italy in 2024Emily Hampton © Copyright 2024 by Emily Hampton |
 Photo courtesy of the author |
Sitting
next to my mom, I held her hand as the plane took off. I noticed her
eyes were closed. I knew she was praying. Praying for safety, for
fun, for the trip of a lifetime. I closed my eyes and said one as
well.
When I was little, we would fantasize about all the foreign places we would visit together one day. She made sure my childhood was full of culture and domestic travel, but this Italy trip was the apex of all our adventures. . . .
More...
MagnitudeFrank Edejoro Miller © Copyright 2024 by Frank Edejoro Miller |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
Clifford
Deji is the
only sane madman and living dead man I know. He turned to that man
because of the war in Libya in 2014. That war was a curse to some
persons, and also a blessing to others. It was a curse to those who
lost their lives, their homes, loved ones, or properties. But the war
was a blessing to some group of persons, who lived thousands of
kilometers away from Libya. . . .
No Limit In LifeEzzdean Duane © Copyright 2024 by Ezzdean Duane |
 Image by WikiImages from Pixabay |
The
sky is no longer the limit as a human being. We have to push the
boundaries because contrary to what people think, I consider myself
to be an infinitely multidimensional specimen. With precise ideals
and objectives. Because without them I remain a dead leaf which
inexorably takes the direction of the wind. . . .
Autobiography of Plamen VasilevPlamen Vasilev © Copyright 2024 by Plamen Vasilev |
 Wheat field, Bulgaria. Image by Zhivko Dimitrov from Pixabay |
My name is Plamen Vasilev, and I hail from a small village, called Zafirovo nestled in the heart of Northern Bulgaria, where the sun rises over fields of corn and wheat, casting a golden hue that gently awakens the spirit of my homeland. There live less than 1000 people and I am one of them. I live with my mom and my little sister. . . .
Who Tells My Story?Goke-Adenrele Adewemimo Iman © Copyright 2024 by Goke-Adenrele Adewemimo Iman |
 Image by RockYourCradle from Pixabay |
I
have come to the realization that before I started living my current
age, profession, and routine, I have lived several lives before. I
have been a dutiful daughter, a naive lover, an unknown classmate and
colleague, a supportive friend, an anxious jester, among many
scenarios I cannot seem to think of at the moment. I know I am all
these things because I lived it, and to other persons I’ve met,
I am one of these things. If you asked them to tell my story, you
will only have a version of me another teller have never, and will
never meet. . . .
Bridge BuildersJohn A. Tures © Copyright 2024 by John A. Tures |
 Flint River Bridge. Photo courtesy of the Georgia Archives. |
Walking among the Confederate graves in this small-to-middlin’ Georgia town of LaGrange, my students were astonished to learn that the largest monument at the site was dedicated to a slave-turned-bridge-builder and entrepreneur, who even won a seat in the Alabama legislature after Reconstruction. . . .
My Life on the Whippany RiverJoseph W. Keyes © Copyright 2024 by Joseph W. Keyes |
 Photo by the author. |
The banks of the Whippany River in the early 1950s led to the muddiest, laziest, but most sanguine water--river water. I lived a few hundred yards from where it crossed Abbott Avenue under a dingy, white steel bridge. . . .
The Body Never ForgetsMorf Morford © Copyright 2024 by Morf Morford |
 Image by Marc
Pascual from Pixabay
|
Ever notice how toddlers fall and get back up right away?
When we are learning to walk, falling and tumbling over is part of the learning process. and for little ones, falling doesn’t get in the way of learning. . . .
Dealing With DeathMishri Jain © Copyright 2024 by Mishri Jain |
 Photo by Valeriia Harbuz at Pexels. |
Whenever
I have heard about somebody’s loved one passing away, there is
one primary word that I find myself saying, “unimaginable”.
You cannot recreate that pain. it’s so gut-wrenching, it’s
so painful, it’s so infinite, you only know it when you feel
it. . . .
The Erl QueenReagan Brady © Copyright 2024 by Reagan Brady |
 Photo by |
We
lived in a great blue house.
It was as big as the sky was blue, and when the clouds grayed, the house, too, would shut up its doors, fold in its walls. I would drink hot drinks and read books, gathered up in covers, safe from the dangers outside. . . .
The LessonDaniel Hero © Copyright 2024 by Daniel Hero |
 Photo by Luis Quintero on Unsplash |
When
I was five years old, I had a friend named Rich. My mother and I lived
alone in an apartment in Massachusetts and Rich would often come over
to play. One day my mother asked me if I would like it if Rich were to
be my brother. Not too long after that, he was. Rich is only six months
younger than I am but for some reason I fell into the older brother
role. . . .
Skiing The BluesKaren M. Kumor © Copyright 2024 by Karen M. Kumor |
 Photo by |
The
trio met the others for lunch at the Alpine Meadows base lodge. Their
friend, Inger, would be there with ‘Mikey’, her favorite
ski instructor. According to her, he was an instructor wunderkind.
She crushed on him since one of her trips to Valle Nevado, Chile, a
few Augusts ago. The three women had heard her gushing about Mikey
for a while now. . . .
Newspapers In The EveningStephen G. McKenna © Copyright 2024 by Stephen G. McKenna |
 Photo by Richard Loller |
While
attending elementary school, the job of a newspaper delivery boy
imprinted itself upon my person as a positive experience. When
certain weather patterns take hold in adulthood, memories of this
time stir as I mentally time travel to those days. . . .
More...
The Magic Cardboard BoxStephen G. McKenna © Copyright 2024 by Stephen G. McKenna |
 Photo by Cottonbro Studio at Pexels. |
A Cause for a CelebrationErica B. Donelson-Ellison © Copyright 2024 by Erica B. Donelson-Ellison |
 Image by Pexels from Pixabay |
Although my immediate family remembered, My Mama forgot my birthday. I couldn't understand it as only a short time earlier ( it had been just a month or so), I had pulled out all of the stops to successfully celebrate her ninetieth year, by organizing an extended weekend lavish retreat of surprise entertainments. . . .
Twin StormsEriko Kennedy © Copyright 2024 by Eriko Kennedy |
 Photo courtesy of Greg Holland, Bureau of Meteorology Darwin, Australia. |
I already knew. It was after dusk when I was called from homework hall to go to my dormitory mistress, a vague spinster in charge of our schedules and bedtimes. In her dark sitting room, her profile backlit by yellow lamplight, she told me stiffly that my father had died. I burst into tears. I cried all night for him, and for me. . . .
A Stranger's KindnessSteven Corbin © Copyright 2024 by Steven Corbin |
 An alley in Da Nang. Photo courtesy of the author. |
Back, Back To Culver DaysGreta Hughes © Copyright 2024 by Greta Hughes |
 Photo of Greta, her Mom, and two sisters. |
On
6 April 1941 Adolf Hitler ordered German forces - backed by Italian,
Romanian, Hungarian and Bulgarian allies - to invade Yugoslavia and
Greece. He launched the assault in order to secure the oil resources
in Romania and to keep his Balkan flank safe for when he ultimately
planned to invade Russia. . . .
When Father Was In ChargeNnedimma Okoli © Copyright 2024 by Nnedimma Okoli |
 Photo by Kevin McCutcheon on Unsplash |
I
was seven when my mother travelled from Awka, where we lived, to
Abuja for a job interview. Father was to take care of us for the two
days that Mother would be away. This had never happened in the past;
having our father take care of us for a complete day without our
mother being there to direct and order things. It had been Mother who
always cooked in the house, it was she who bathed us, who made sure
the house was in order. Mother was like that umpire that watches over
every moment, ensuring that everyone played by the rules. . . .
Rio Bravo GrandeMarcela Torres © Copyright 2024 by Marcela Torres |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
Pharr,
Texas
I
really needed to take poop. I made it clear by shouting. My father
jumped off the seat. "Not right now” he begged. It was our
very first trip together. Father and daughter. I was too little to
tend to my own needs, he was a grown man that barely spoke any
English and we had just crossed the border. . . .
Rule Two - No HitchhikersThom Shilling © Copyright 2022 by Thom Shilling |
 Photo by Raouf Dar at Pexels. |
Pellets
of ice dripped down the back of my neck as I pumped gas at the last
filling station before getting on the New York Skyway in Buffalo.
Although it only took five minutes to fill my tank, it was a
bone-chilling night and an ice helmet formed over my hair. I placed
my hands to my mouth and breathed warm moist air on my frozen fingers
as I went to pay for my fuel....
Way Home: A Drama In Three PartsAlice Hodgkins © Copyright 2024 by Alice Hodgkins |
 Photo by Hari Panicker on Unsplash |
I’d
been on the train for weeks. On and off, off and on. I’d gone
from the Carolinas up to Boston, then to Pittsburgh, to Cleveland,
Fort Wayne, to Chicago, and at last to Indianapolis. The point of the
thing had been to see old friends here and there, to hold their
children, to eat at their tables, walk their sidewalks, and curl up
on their couches. . . .
Anya of UkraineMax White © Copyright 2024 by Max White |
 Livadia Palace, photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
After
the 2001 Twin Towers attack, people were afraid to fly, and tickets
were cheap. I decided to go to Ukraine. I particularly hankered to go
to Yalta in Crimea. Why Ukraine? Why Yalta? I had no family or
professional connections. However, I study history vis-à-vis
human rights. I spent two decades with the US section of Amnesty
International, specializing in Indonesian human rights. There were
parallels between Indonesia and Ukraine. Few people in the United
States knew much about Indonesia, the world’s fourth most
populous nation, with the largest Muslim population. Until recently,
few here knew much about Ukraine, the geographical center of
Europe. . . .
|
To Be A Refugee Mario Levi As told to his son, Steven C. Levi
© Copyright 2024 by Steven C. Levi
|
|
It was September of 1939. Paris was mobilizing. Before spring, the clash of resounding arms was expected all along the Maginot Line, that great barrier of concrete and steel that ran the length of the French-German border. In the cafes and bistros that lined the Champs-Élysées no one talked of anything but war, war, war. Toasts to La Belle France and curses to les boches echoed in the restaurants on Rue de Rivoli and Avenue de l'Opera. Even the walls of the buildings spoke of war. Every day the lists of the military units being called to active duty were posted throughout the city. After twenty-one years of uneasy peace, Europe was once again about to go to war. . . .
| I
Said Yes To Eating Less Humor by Mark P. Maller © Copyright 2024 by Mark P. Maller |
 Photo by Documerica on Unsplash |
When in doubt, I go without. That has been my motto and it’s not always easy. Six years ago, I gained too many pounds and my clothes no longer fit, and I didn’t want to buy new ones. Then I became adamant about staying slim and not gaining weight, but I hated worrying about calories and extra carbohydrates. . . .
The Baker Man
|
 Photo courtesy of the author.. |
. . . .I first suspected my husband’s affair in late August during the peak of the garden season. Those weeks when the little lettuces hid in the shadows of the squash trellis and the clusters of Italian tomatoes hung heavy and low to the ground. The Big Boys and Jet Stars ripened pink to red with the heat of the sun and their daily drip, drip, drip from the irrigation system. They grew healthy and doubled in size on a steady diet of Epsom salts and pulverized egg shells. . . .
| How
I Met Sidney Shelly Sitzer © Copyright 2024 by Shelly Sitzer |
 Shelly and Sidney, 1958. Photo courtesy of the author. |
Being 14 and a newcomer in an East Flatbush/Brownsville, Brooklyn neighborhood, I had finally made a couple of friends after a very hard time being accepted in this last year of junior high school. Miraculously, I had finally made a friend named Sarah and was so happy to be able to visit her after school. . . .
| Anointment Gail Sealy © Copyright 2024 by Gaily Sealy |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
“Jaya
Ganesha, Jaya Ganesha, Panemam, Sue de mane, Sue de mane, Rashaman”
| Moving Tomislav Takač © Copyright 2024 by Tomislav Takač |
 Photo courtesy of Pixabay. |
Milan had just had breakfast and put coffee to brew for himself. He looked out the window of his house and observed the almost finished overpass and the new road that crosses his farm. The house and the farm itself were almost a hundred years old and had not bothered anyone...until now At any moment, a representative of the construction company "Ling Dong" was supposed to come to buy the house and the land. . . .
| If
The Fates Allow Sara Etgen-Baker Photos courtesy of the author. © Copyright 2024 by Sara Etgen-Baker |
 |
 |
I met Susan in sophomore English class in 1968. I sat at the desk behind her, often staring at her thick, auburn hair wishing my thin, mousy brown hair was as radiant as hers. I marveled at how confident she was, offering her opinion without prompting. I, however, only spoke when called upon to do so. Susan was a slender, attractive, meticulously and fashionably dressed girl who was also popular and gregarious. I was a plain looking, tall girl who wore handmade clothes, was painfully shy and socially awkward, lacking self-confidence, and who much preferred remaining invisible. She smiled with ease; I was reserved. I yearned to be more like her and dreamed of being part of her circle of friends. But we were not likely to be friends. Or so I thought. . . .
A Thousand Desires
|
|
November 15, 1887
On a blustery, gray morning in Sun Prairie, Wisconsin— Georgia O’Keeffe was born on her parents’ farm, the second of seven children.
At age four, Georgia regularly helped her mother, Ida Totto O’Keeffe, milk the cows and gather eggs. One day, young Georgia surprised Ida by stating the following, “When I grow up, I’ll be a world-famous artist— rich enough to take care of our whole family beyond your wildest dreams.”. . .
More...
My daughter, Debbie, did some family research in 2022, and in the process she found the simple graves of my grandmother, her daughter, and two sons. They were buried beneath a tree on a farm in Edmonson County, Kentucky, near Mammoth Cave National Park, acreage my grandfather Jesse once owned. Their gravestones are small pieces of creek stone. . . .
|
Ages
©
Copyright 2024 by James L. Cowles
|
|
My daughter, Debbie, did some family research in 2022, and in the process she found the simple graves of my grandmother, her daughter, and two sons. They were buried beneath a tree on a farm in Edmonson County, Kentucky, near Mammoth Cave National Park, acreage my grandfather Jesse once owned. Their gravestones are small pieces of creek stone. . . .
When The World Stood StillMelissa Wade © Copyright 2024 by Melissa Wade |
 Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Unsplash |
The
millennium was still defined as new when I started my first job as an
admin assistant in a government department. Though I was happy
enough, a little bee buzzed in my mind, restless, constantly annoying
me. That nagging feeling something wasn’t quite right, or
missing. This wasn’t the plan. Before I got ill and spent a
year signed off sick (a doctor’s decision rather than mine), I
was going to travel, be a nomad seeking a place in the world and
explore life. . . .
It's Up To JackFredrick Hudgin © Copyright 2024 by Fredrick Hudgin |
 Photo courtesy of the author |
“John,” I whispered, looking up, “it won’t be long before we’re finally together again. Did you wait for me, too?”
He died twelve years ago, right after our forty-first anniversary. His doctor detected it during a routine annual checkup. Then he had an MRI, a CT scan, and his pancreas removed. It didn’t stop the cancer. The chemo and radiation did nothing but make him even sicker. Six weeks later, he died as I held him. My soulmate, my companion for forty-two years—stolen from me before our “golden years” had even begun. . . .
| Portrait
of a Friend Sarah Jeong © Copyright 2024 by Sarah Jeong |
 Photo by Marten Bjork on Unsplash |
“I’ve
been working at this hotel for so long that these mosquitos don’t
bite me anymore. You wouldn’t eat beef or chicken every day,
right? Mosquitos are the same. They’re like, ‘Ntanga, we
already know what she tastes like,’ so now they don’t
bother me.”. . .
| Pandemic
Isolation Sarah Jeong © Copyright 2024 by Sarah Jeong |
 Image by cro magnon13 from Pixabay |
People
speak as if the pandemic is in the past. “We moved in together
during the pandemic.” “I haven’t boarded a plane
since before the pandemic.” It is a discreet period in peoples’
minds – a few years in history that vary by person and location
but are generally characterized by acute anxiety of the unknown, when
traditional authorities lacked answers and where people tested their
new realities with suspicion. . . .
| Silhouette Kayla Xu © Copyright 2024 by Kayla Xu |
 Image by congerdesign from Pixabay |
When my grandma was born, she survived a certain death by mere seconds. Her mother labored for hours, sweat and blood soaking steadily through coarse burlap sheets. Dirt walls surrounded the woman on all sides, muffling her sharp gasps. Still, she managed to force out a few words to her three-year-old son, who was standing nearby. Kill her. She thought she was about to die, and a baby without milk–especially one from a poor family of six boys–was better off dead. . . .
| "Dear
Me Diary, Dear She Diary" Brian Kelly © Copyright 2024 by Brian Kelly |
 Photo by Fa Barboza on Unsplash |
Dear
Me Diary,
Hello
diary, I’m sorry I’ve kept you - because I haven’t
been keeping you - but even when I haven’t written I’ve
spoken to you every day. Each day has seemed too short or too long.
On many days it’s only you that I’ve spoken to properly,
those days when no one understood me, even those who tried. Who knows
when this began? . . .
| The
Dawn Of My Self Discovery Olvens Louissaint © Copyright 2024 by Olvens Louissaint |
 Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash. |
After
having taken, under the instigation of my desire to explore both myself
and the world, the whim of devoting myself to study, I spent almost the
whole day conducting research. As an eclectic reader, I read every book
that came my way, starting by exploring the words in my dictionary.
Sometimes I read books just so I could discover new words. This was how
I spent my day in search of my true self through my research almost
everyday. . . .
| A
Student's Send-off Lingxi Liu © Copyright 2024 by Lingxi Liu |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons |
It’s
June, which usually marks the beginning of summer and the end of
school. This June, though, for me and millions of others around the
globe, means the graduating seniors bid us farewell and pass us the
laurel crown of stress and upcoming university applications. . . .
My Grandfather's HouseNomusa Neo Shuping © Copyright 2024 by Nomusa Neo Shuping |
 Photo by Robert Taylor from Stirling, ON, Canada at Wikimedia Commons. |
I remember my grandfather's house as a place where all the relatives would come through, either for a visit, to sleep over or because well, you need a place to stay for a little while.
This was a three bedroom house with two outdoor rooms at the back. . . .
Middle Of NowhereRoger Funston © Copyright 2024 by Roger Funston |
 Photo by Erik den Yngre at Wikimedia Commons. |
In Fall 2014, my wife and I drive from our permanent home in Tehachapi California to our temporary home in Round Mountain Nevada with our three dogs. We get an early start on the six hour drive because of reports of upcoming bad weather. . . .
SympathyJames Jay Dunn © Copyright 2024 by |
 Image by Belinda Cave from Pixabay |
After
my thumb pressed the release, the
nine-millimeter pistol barrel slid free. I pushed the legal paper to
the side and began to clean my automatic pistol. After it was cleaned
and reassembled, I slapped my head in stupidity. I pulled out the
ammunition magazine and wiped it down. Most people forget this, which
is why the police always check it for fingerprints. The doorbell rang.
It interrupted me from sliding the magazine back into place. I was
surprised to see a Matthews policeman after I opened the door. . . .
| The
Herbalist Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan
|
 Photo courtesy of Seoul National Museum. |
The
wandering, wayward life I led in my twenties and early thirties had
consequences, and one of these was a chronic illness. There’s
no certainty how this began but I can say with confidence how it
ended.
Somewhere
along the way I picked up one or more — or many more —
microbial passengers, little things who joined me in the course of a
meal somewhere and stayed for the free ride. . . .
The ExperimentJames Michael Chouinard © Copyright 2024 by James Michael Chouinard |
 Photo by Farzad Sedaghat at Pexels. |
This is a true story, only the names have been changed and the school kept private. It is now fifty years since the events that occurred in the science lab in 1976 and I feel I can share it safely for all concerned. This is a true account of a science experiment that was conceived and designed by a wonderful, intelligent group of students that I had the privilege to teach. . . .
A Polaroid of a Girl's Unattended ThoughtsYvette P. Rejuso © Copyright 2024 by Yvette P. Rejuso |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
It
was the middle of December, the most appropriate date, they say, for
all children to go out every single night. Perhaps, not all of them.
Most of the time, I sat in silence by the window and observed the
small group of children at our front door, singing Christmas carols.
Tonight, there were five of them. Two of them were holding their
breath and any minute now would burst into laughter, and the three, I
assume who possess alluring voices, were singing their heart out as
if they had rent and bills to pay this week. I began to wonder,
‘What is it like
to be singing
outside the house of a stranger? Will I get under their skin? Bummed
out? Delighted? . . .
More...
The Day My Grandmother DiedNomusa Neo Shuping © Copyright 2024 by Nomusa Neo Shuping |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I
remember sitting in the house feeling an
overwhelming feeling of calm and relief, as though my life would
suddenly get better. All of a sudden the sun was lighter, my emotions
were brighter, there was a certain peace and certainty that my life
would get better. . . .
SergioIya Fulem © Copyright 2024 by Iya Fulem |
 Photo by Taylor Smith on Unsplash |
There are things and people that are important, that make me go to sleep with a smile on my face. These fill my heart up after all the shame and pain have been removed from it.
Sergio, my very good friend is one. . . .
inally Good EnoughIya Fulem © Copyright 2024 by Iya Fulem |
 Image by Mykola Volkov from Pixabay |
For the longest time, all I could see were things about myself that were far less than acceptable, I was unsatisfied with 95% of who I was. And I decided my life will consist of waiting, as I go through the process of changing myself to someone I can like. . . .
Go Get CharlieGeorge R. Frost © Copyright 2024 by George R. Frost |
 Photo by Melvina Mak on Unsplash |
When
you walk into the arcade, there it is. Encased in glass, the
metallic claw sits there seductively as if whispering to you like a
siren, “C’mon, you can do this. It’s so easy. C’mon you want to give it
a try.”
At the bottom are the prizes you covet. You know you will think about them long after you have left the arcade. Bugs Bunny, Spongebob Squarepants, Bart Simpson, Dora the Explorer, Baby Yoda, Buzz Lightyear, Shrek, you know they are all there. Just one of them would be a great addition to the collection you have lined up on the pillow of your bed. . . .
| My
Chessmates
Bizikov Petr Alexandrovich © Copyright 2024 by Bizikov PetrAlexandrovich |
 Image by Steve Buissinne from Pixabay |
When I was 4 years old, my dad taught me how to play chess, and at the age of five, I played the Italian and Spanish openings pretty well. At the same time, a boy from our nursery was shown on TV; he was sitting at a chess board and showing adults how chess pieces move, and the teacher of the nursery was saying:
“This is our champion. When he grows up, he will be a world chess champion.”. . .
A Cow TaleJohn Rogers Howard © Copyright 2024 by John Rogers Howard |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
By the time I turned almost eight, I had my first full time job milking the family cow. Helping my mother with KP chores, mowing lawn, and shoveling out winter snow storms, were routine chores shared with an older and younger brother. Being responsible for the cow’s daily needs, I took on a personal responsibility above the mundane expected participation in family life. . . .
The Real IrelandM. D. (Peggy) Roblyer © Copyright 2024 by M. D. (Peggy) Roblyer |
 Photo by Kenneth Allen at Wikimedia Commons. |
When my sister, Becky, and I planned our visit to Ireland in 1986, we always had our hearts set on going to the Aran Islands. The travel books said Aran was the “real Ireland,” a land of such evocative beauty that authors and poets gravitated there to live and work. . . .
The FallerBrad Bennett © Copyright 2024 by Brad Bennett |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
John studied the French countryside. It appeared safe enough...lots of open country spread across wide grass fields. In the distance, he could see a wooded area, but that was good, too far away for a sniper. The dirt roadway was rough, bouncing him around in the back of the small truck like a toy doll. The vehicle's wooden bench was hard on his ass. But it was a lot harder for the five captured German soldiers crammed in with him. They could barely move...packed together with their hands tightly bound. . . .
|
Claire's Good Fortune
© Copyright 2024 by James L. Cowles |
|
Claire was walking on air. Just a few nights ago, she met a guy who knocked her right off her feet. It all started when a few of her girlfriends took her to see a local musician, someone she had heard about from a friend, someone who had been performing at the “Back Door” for the last several weeks. . . .
All In My HeadMorf Morford © Copyright 2024 by Morf Morford |
Photo
courtesy of the author
|
On the evening of May 10th, 2024, when many others were preparing to watch the most intense visible Aurora Borealis and solar storm in decades, I was in custody of the US border patrol on the US side of the Canadian border.
Going through customs, it would be easy to argue, is no one’s favorite travel-related activity.
The Wonderland TrailMorf Morford © Copyright 2024 by Morf Morford |
 |
The Wonderland Trail is a trail that goes around, at approximately mid-point, (most of the time) Mount Rainier.
It is about 93 miles long and traverses glaciers, rivers, crevasses, wetlands and, of course, stunning alpine views. And it is on an active volcano. . . .
The TransformerNomusa Neo Shuping © Copyright 2024 by Nomusa Neo Shuping |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
On a cold Winter morning, after a long night with the baby, Mosa is shaken by a loud bang.
She had been up all night nursing the infant and so, when this happens, she’s still asleep, almost drowning in sleep.
There’s a tremor, almost like an earthquake, with dust spreading across the room. This sound is only heard for a brief moment and as such, cannot be an earthquake but there’s still dust. . . .
Memoirs of a 24/7 Chain DinerElla Durden © Copyright 2024 by Ella Durden |
 Photo by Izz R on Unsplash |
The
last time I saw him, we were standing outside. It was storming. We
stood underneath the canopy of the restaurant, listening to the rain
pelt down against the metal and bounce from it, creating deep puddles
in the potholes of the parking lot. Rich didn’t smoke anymore,
he vaped, and every now and then he would exhale a cherry scented
cloud out of his lips. . . .
More...
Blue PancakesCity Sayler © Copyright 2024 by City Sayler |
 Image by webdesignprof0 from Pixabay |
Recently,
I was asked where my love for working with kids came from. At that
moment, I had two options; I could give a generic answer about how I
was a camp counselor for my first job, or how I’m the oldest of three
siblings, but instead, I decided to share the story of my foster
brother. . . .
| Before
The Rainbow Debra Jo Myers © Copyright 2024 by Debra Jo Myers |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
He was enraged. “Why can’t we speed this up?”
Eight hours she cried in pain and anguish. I felt helpless, like I had disconnected with what was going on right in front of me.
When my son-in-law called me sobbing yesterday, which was something I’d never seen him do in the last ten years, I left immediately. Five minutes to the hospital, but it took forever to get out of my car and walk into utter heartbreak. . . .
From the Bank to the Boxing RingScott Chaston © Copyright 2024 by Scott Chaston |
 Photo by Hermes Rivera on Unsplash |
My
wife once told me that she admired the stark contrast between my work
persona and home life demeanor. She was smart to avoid the word
“façade”, but it undoubtedly fit on one end of
that spectrum, or perhaps both. At work, I was the boss; elsewhere
just a schoolboy with an inability to assert myself. Somehow still,
at the age of thirty-one, I found myself descending the back-alley
steps of the local boxing gym. . . .
More...
BeautyKaren Gonzales © Copyright 2024 by Karen Gonzales |
 Photo by Cottonbro Studios at Pexels. |
What
Is someone's definition of beauty; a pretty, pleasing face to look at
with a well-kept body or is it someone who's kind-hearted and has
inner peace?
A Letter on Sad PagesUde Ogbodo Okereke © Copyright 2024 by Ude Ogbodo Okereke |
 William Blake, The Lord answereing Job out of a whirlwind. Illustration from Wikimedia Commons. |
Dear Friend,
If you hear that I stepped down, kindly disregard. I did not. I only become your aborted Chief Judge, whose existence was drowned in its own baptismal water before birth. Yes. But not a step down— a defeat before the beginning of a contest— a stagger without any punch; without any wine. My gut gives essence to this truth. The bruised hope, in my crushed out being, against every odd, always sews shield from web of a maimed spider a bleached salvation to redeem my broken self. . . .
The Old Cement HouseElizabeth Lopilato © Copyright 2024 by Elizabeth Lopilato |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
Come with me now back to 1967, when I was a
child, right around the age of five. I was moved out of my
mother’s house trailer by my new father (my mother’s then boyfriend)
and into an apartment with him and his sister. My new aunt would become
my “Mimi”. This was such a happy experience for me. . . .
How I Learned To Sleep AloneJenna Vanella © Copyright 2024 by Jenna Vanella |
 Photo by Alexandra Gorn on Unsplash |
My
older sister always had the ability to sleep in her own room. She was
even brave enough to have her door closed, and to fall asleep to the
sound of her own breath. I, on the other hand, was terrified of my
room. The bed was very high off the ground, leaving too much space
for any sort of being to crawl out and grab me. . . .
The EscapistThomas M. Jardine © Copyright 2024 by Thomas M. Jardine |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
Our
move to Benjamin Grove was not without a smidgen of angst. We were
leaving a two-story, 5- bedroom, turn-of-the-century ( nineteenth )
farmhouse that was sitting on 7.5 acres, and going to a 2-bedroom,
900 square foot unit in one of a dozen quads. A community that
targeted seniors, though being one was not a prerequisite. . . .
Despite the Obstacles My Family’s Philippines Perseveres |
 Photo by Umesh Soni on Unsplash |
Let
me offer a little personal history. I come from the poorest of
families where we lived in a rural town in the Philippines called
Dumalag. I have 11 sisters and brothers which sure made it more
difficult for us to get by.
Because
we had such a large family, we struggled to meet the most basic
needs, such as clothing, food, and shelter. Some days we didn’t
eat at all, or subsisted only on rice. All the older children in our
family had to quit school for one or more years to help take care of
our younger siblings while our parents worked. . . .
Alhambra - 1940-1943Thomas Turman © Copyright 2023 by Thomas Turman |
 Photo by Chris F at Prexels. |
One of my first memories is of escape and the wonderful fear that comes from confronting something completely new. Looking at old, brown photographs my mother took of me as a four-year-old standing stiffly next to my dad in front of a blooming Poinsettia bush, squinting into the afternoon California sun. My mother’s clear, penciled title and date on the back of the photo; “Tommy, Alhambra, 1941. . . .
| Heart's Desire Patricia M. Snell With assistance from Carol L. Easterly Photos by the author. © Copyright 2024 by Patricia M. Snell |
 |
 |
What
happened
almost 20 years ago that left a telltale sign on our dining room
ceiling? What secret was Carol hiding behind her bedroom door? This
is a story of lessons learned, the hard way. . . .
| Running
Dogs Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
Recently,
at the Queen Sofia Museum in Madrid, I saw some astonishing examples
of anti-fascist propaganda posters from the years of the Spanish
Civil War, posters with vibrant colors to arrest the eye and vivid
images to carry a message to the masses. All this brought to mind my
own experience with political persuasion, for I know a thing or two
about propaganda, having seen high quality work early in my life. . . .
|
A Matter of Perspective
Steven Hunley
© Copyright 2024 by Steven Hunley |
|
I
feel awkward even talking about this. As soon as you suggest to
someone you’ve been on the Goodyear blimp, they narrow their
eyes. Their skepticism slaps you in the face, and you haven’t
even started the story yet.
Not
one person I’ve ever told this story has said, “Hey, I
did that too!” Whether or not you even believe it may depend
upon where you live. People that live in San Diego are more likely to
believe the story than say, people in Montana, because they don’t
fly blimps in Montana. . . .
Vlad - Between Myth and HistorySandra Balteanu © Copyright 2024 by Sandra Balteanu |
 Minature by Nikolaus Ochsenbach at Wikimedia Commons. |
The story of Dracula by Bram Stoker is by far one of my favorite books, and not only because of the mystery, suspense, intrigue, and perfectly crafted characters by the author but also for the artistic style of expressing ideas and narrating events. I read the novel eagerly on a hot summer, in the mornings when I drank my coffee with my children beside me before the heat overwhelmed us, like a well-deserved break before a day of work. . . .
| Hasuksaeng 하
숙생
Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan |
 Photo by Jisoo Park on Unsplash |
When
we leave home
and have our first years living on our own, many of us will
experience situations less comfortable and with fewer amenities than
what we knew in our childhood or later in life. We might spend some
of our early years in a dormitory room or a shared apartment or
similar rented space, and, if our means are limited, our lodgings may
even be rundown and ramshackle. I knew such conditions in my early
years in Korea, but today it’s a fond memory.
The Korean word hasukjip is usually translated as boarding house, but this cannot convey the reality of my living arrangements fifty-odd years ago when I was content to live in a space the size of a walk-in closet, and with the barest furnishings, or none at all. . . .
The Korean word hasukjip is usually translated as boarding house, but this cannot convey the reality of my living arrangements fifty-odd years ago when I was content to live in a space the size of a walk-in closet, and with the barest furnishings, or none at all. . . .
The House That Dad BuiltSara Weber © Copyright 2024 by Sara Weber |
 Photo by Rene Asmussen at Pexels. |
The
Booby Bungalow sat between Nashville and Huntsville, just off the I-65
South exit for Fayetteville-Pulaski. It was the exit Dad told us to
take to get to his newly built house. “Now listen”, he said, “unlike
what your mom thought, I did not buy this land because of the proximity
to the Booby Bungalow. I bought it because it has always been my dream
to have space to play ‘Cowboys and Indians’ when I retire” (I would
always correct him with “Just cowboys, Dad, just cowboys.”) . . . .
Sorry For Your LossMbali Xabela © Copyright 2024 by Mbali Xabela |
 Photo by David Goldsbury on Unsplash |
“Sorry for your loss.”
A hollow sentiment, one I used so cheaply without the knowledge of the profound, existential, and excruciating burden of a loss. Grief and death were such distant concepts to me, I lived so long without its withering touch upon my life. Yes, relatives and relatives of close friends passed away throughout the years, but no one was so close to my soul that they were a part of it. April 3rd 2023, will be a day that will forever cast a pall on all those that follow. It’s almost been a year since my world had been torn asunder and my soul split from its seams.
The day my grandfather died. . . .
| Chung-il Chil-ban Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan |
 Photo courtesy of the author.. |
Recently,
while
sorting through an old briefcase filled with papers that I carried
around for many years before settling in this house, I came across
some photos from the early years I spent in Korea as a teacher in a
boys middle school in the small city of Chunchŏn in Kangwŏn
Province, and in one of these pictures I am standing in a group
portrait of one particular class. I had not looked at this
picture in twenty years but as soon as I saw it I instantly
remembered the day and the occasion and I said to myself, “Chung-il
Chil-ban.”. . .
| Story
of Life Paris Gardner © Copyright 2024 by Paris Gardner |
 Photo by Allan Vega on Unsplash |
Having nowhere to go can be a scary experience. One of the hardest things I ever had to learn was getting back on my feet. I have always been afraid of being homeless, but I decided it’s time to start working hard to get out this situation. I also thought it would be a great way to help my mother find her way because she also been going through a lot due to her having 3 kids. What I didn’t realize was being an adult is harder than our parents make it look. . . .
| Kaya
Mijikenda Ibrahim Said Mwafrika © Copyright 2024 by Ibrahim Said Mwafrika |
 Image by Jim Cramer from Pixabay |
Based
on a true culture, way of life in the year 1500 AD. The Kaya
Mijikenda Community of the Bantu Origin namely Kambe, Ribe, Jibana,
Kauma, Rabai, Chonyi, Giriama, Duruma and Digo, lived a life worth
remembering. Here is their story. . . .
Gillette DaysRoger Funston © Copyright 2024 by Roger Funston |
Photo by Erik den Yngre at Wikimedia Commons. |
In
1980, I joined Arco Coal in the Denver Corpirate office, where I
spend a good deal of time providing permit assistance for the
BlackThunder Mine, a large open pit coal mine located near Gillette,
Wyoming. . . .
Winter 1971 Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan |
 North Korean Prisoners 1951, photo by Larry Gahn, US State Department, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
The
winter of 1971 in Chunchŏn was brutally – unforgettably – cold with a
heartless grey sky, a frigid wind blowing from Siberia and iron-hard
ground underfoot, but now – years later – my most vivid memory of that
winter was an evening spent in the company of a friend who practiced
his English with an eye-witness story of war crimes. . . .
No Ordinary BirdLoukia Janavaras © Copyright 2024 by Loukia Janavaras  |
 Grovis, the turkey, (c) 2024 by Amelia Tyson, Minneapolis, MN |
Nearly
every time I would drive from our home in southwest Minneapolis to
visit my 92-year-old father, I would encounter a lone, wild, male
turkey at the only four-way stop on a main road. He would usually be
on one side of the street or the other. I often found myself at the
stop sign waiting for him to cross, feeling impatient and irritable
since I was usually in a rush and that’s usually about the time
he would start crossing the street and stop right in front of my
vehicle. But that was his home, so what else to do except simply
exercise patience in the midst of frustration. It amazed me that he
was bright enough to cross where he knew cars would be stopping. . . .
My Octopus TeamsterEmilie K. Adin © Copyright 2024 by Emilie K. Adin |
 Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash |
In
the waning months of the last millennium, I met a doe-eyed octopus
who turned out to be more of a buck. It changed me. Coming face to
eyeball with this creature is a moment wrapped tightly around my
temporal lobe. Octavia—as I like to remember her—reminds
me of the charismatic octopus “teacher” of documentary
fame; with more braun. So began my love of cephalopods. . . .
In Those EyesStephanie A. Chiedo © Copyright 2024 by Stephanie A. Chiedo |
 Image by Danielle Shaw from Pixabay |
It
was December, the trees came alive. It sang and danced to the tune of
the wind. It was in that dry harmattan season that I took notice of a
laughing dove perched on our tree while I was in the garden writing a
poem. . . .
A Honeybee SwarmRuth Pearson (as told by Charles Keener) © Copyright 2024 by Ruth Pearson |
 Image by xiSerge from Pixabay |
.
. . .Charles’
dad was a beekeeper. The first question I asked Charles that
afternoon was his earliest memory of being the son of a beekeeper.
Charles’ face lit up as he spoke of sitting by the side of the
road on Saturday mornings as car after car swarmed by him. Dust
swirled in the air as his shirt stuck to his skin. With feet dangling
from his chair, he looked at his reflection in rows of honey neatly
stacked in jars on the brown folding table set up in front of him.
Charles’ sister sat by his side playing with her hair, as their
dad intermittently waved a sign at oncoming traffic. “Local
Honey for Sale,” screamed the uneven letters. . . .
Since When Did You Become My Roomie?Kenneth Minishi © Copyright 2024 by Kenneth Minishi |
 Image by GeorgiaLens from Pixabay |
. . . .I wish this gentle beast of burden wouldn’t burden me with his impromptu visits. And why does he have to be so sneaky about it? Why doesn’t he make himself at home during my wistful episodes when I peer through the window pensively? That way I would see him coming. Maybe he has his own version of a ‘tingle’ so he sidles in when my focus is diverted elsewhere. . . .
My Encounter With The Wild AnimalRohini Ragavan © Copyright 2024 by Rohini Ragavan |
 Image by Ralph/Altrip/Germany from Pixabay |
I
was a school girl, when I had my first wild animal encounter. My
school was located amidst a dense jungle, that was a habitat to many
flora and fauna. Summers wafted with mango fruit smell, as I often
spotted squirrels frolicking. Winters, though not bone-chilling,
brought the peacock sounds, in a vibrating resonance. It was a lush
vegetation-abound place, with a huge, ancient baobab tree at the
centre. A brook passed by the side, that supplied water source to the
nearby fields. . . .
Losing My Cares In The JungleLucy Weston © Copyright 2024 by Lucy Weston |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
. . . .We
think life is short, but living without a light for our soul makes it
long and hard. When I finally took the step that seemed impossible,
into a life I never believed could be mine; when I finally decided to
stop being so scared of my dreams, to start trusting my gut and
listen to the screaming voice inside of me that was dying to live
life to its fullest potential; when I finally booked a ticket from my
home in New Zealand and stepped off the plane into the rainforest of
Borneo; I celebrated and grieved at the same time, because in the
end, choosing myself had been so easy, and it felt like coming
home. . . .
The Little BirdSahana Nagandla © Copyright 2024 by Sahana Nagandla |
 Photo by David Ruh courtesy of Pexels. |
Hiking
through
one of the biggest mountains in the world is of course an experience
to treasure for a lifetime, but for me, a meeting with a furry
creature made this memory even more precious. . . .
It's Not A RavenDana S. Ellingwood © Copyright 2024 by Dana S. Ellingwood |
 Image by rfotostock from Pixabay |
Death
was imminent as sadly I bent to comfort my beloved orange tabby of
seventeen years; named Marvin. He’d spent all of his nine lives
barely escaping the grim reaper.
Imagine my horror as I rose and looking out our large sliding glass doors to the patio, saw perched on one of the lawn chairs the largest bird I’d ever seen staring at us. . . .
Imagine my horror as I rose and looking out our large sliding glass doors to the patio, saw perched on one of the lawn chairs the largest bird I’d ever seen staring at us. . . .
Nine Lives Of LoveAlbert W. Caron, Jr. © Copyright 2024 by Albert W. Caron, Jr. |
 Photo by Cong H on Unsplash |
.
. . .After
a long day teaching school, I sat at the kitchen table reading the
mail. The garage door motor grinded to life signifying that my wife
Eileen and our youngest daughter Andrea were home. As the back door
opened, I heard a distinctive meow. Looking over I saw the tiny
creature clutched in my seven-year-old’s small arms.
“Another cat?” I muttered. “Just what this home needs.” . . .
“Another cat?” I muttered. “Just what this home needs.” . . .
Wild AustraliaRoger Funston © Copyright 2024 by Roger Funston |
 Photo of sharp-tailed sandpipers by Steve Wilson courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
Today,
I walk a 10 mile transect over coastal dunes and along brackish
lagoons. We are keeping a list of the migratory birds we see, eastern
curlew and bar-tailed godwit, critically endangered, red-necked
stilt, vulnerable. These birds fly 8,000 miles from China and Siberia
to winter in Coorong National Park. It is April 1984, autumn in
Australia. Soon these birds will migrate to the Northern Hemisphere
to summer. . . .
MantisiaJames Flanigan © Copyright 2024 by James Flanigan |
 Image by Dimitris Vetsikas from Pixabay |
It
wasn’t quite fall yet according to the calendar, but I knew it
was coming. Although the days were still warm, I could feel a chill
in the air when I left work in the early evening. My business was
small — a modest warehouse and tiny office shared with my one
full-time employee. We both parked right outside the door in a
parking lot that came alive with helpless life in early summer. . . .
Our Bestial Neighbors With SombrerosMelodie Langevin © Copyright 2024 by Melodie Langevin |
 Photo by Karl Hedin on Unsplash |
It was on a warm, sunny afternoon when I was out shopping that I saw him for the first time: Mister The President. From the top of his low concrete wall, he looked at me coldly. I was in Mexico, face to face with a medium-sized iguana, enthroned on the grayish concrete wall surrounding my neighbor's house across the street. Originally from Quebec, Canada, and accustomed to North American wildlife, I discovered a new animal horizon while living in Mexico for just over a year. . . .
Shared SanctuaryDebra Reeves © Copyright 2024 by Debra Reeves |
 Photo by Rhododendrites at Wikimedia Commons. |
We
purchased the large tract of land to be an informal sanctuary for
ourselves and for the wild creatures that we thought would wish to
harbour there. Over the course of our lives, we had endured some
painful losses from which we were still attempting to recover. Years
before, my husband had lost a first wife and a child, but those
events are not easily overcome. When we purchased the acreage, I was
still recovering from the effects of a coma that left me with some
disabilities. We both loved to garden so our dream was to build a
safe and welcoming place of beauty. . . .
More...
|
Autumn 1971
Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
This Chinese
character, (commonly used in written Korean), means Autumn.*Kangwŏn
Province begins in the central mountains east of Seoul, extends out
to the Sea of Japan, and stretches down one third of the peninsula,
its northern limit being the DMZ separating South Korea from North
Korea. Many people in the province were from the North, found
themselves in the South when the fighting ended with the armistice in
1953 and stayed in the province near the new border with the idea
that this division was surely temporary, couldn’t last much
longer, and if they just waited until the war really ended, they
could rejoin their relatives in Pyŏngyang or Kaesŏng or any
of a thousand villages called home. In 1971 they were still
waiting. . . .
WholesomeSally Bonn-Ohiaeriaku © Copyright 2024 by Sally Bonn-Ohiaeriaku |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I ran into her at the hospital and I could see the loss of her husband affected her greatly. Grief was so unkind to her that a month after his funeral, she became a patient at the University of Nigeria Teaching Hospital (UNTH) in Enugu state. Her children were abroad and she needed a caregiver. She was my best friend so I chose to do it. I moved into her home and we found solace in ourselves. . . .
No NameDeborah Krulwich © Copyright 2024 by Deborah Krulwich |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
"That's
my guy!" I say, pointing to the brown and white wild rabbit that
romps with his colony just beneath the grassy knoll near my apartment
building. . . .
Rubber WormsSusan M. Smith © Copyright 2024 by Susan M. Smith |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
Walking
out the door of my house in Garoua Boulai, Cameroon, I basked in the
morning sun. Not yet too hot. Not too much dust in the air since it
had rained the night before. The air smelled fresh and clean. To the
right of my door grew a huge mango tree with fruit beginning to
ripen. On the packed dirt in front of me, I saw a long, black thing
about two feet long. . . .
Elephants Never ForgetAnnabelle Huff © Copyright 2024 by |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
....Being
a former missionary kid meant
that I had to make sure I knew what I was talking about. And two,
uncaged wild animals being normal to you probably means you either
own a circus or have lived somewhere other than America. I was barely
double digits, and I was dumb.
I’m older now, but memories don’t change like house addresses do. I haven’t been back to Africa in eight years, but I can still remember the way it felt to breathe the same uncaged air as they did. . . .
I’m older now, but memories don’t change like house addresses do. I haven’t been back to Africa in eight years, but I can still remember the way it felt to breathe the same uncaged air as they did. . . .
The Struggles of Everyday ExistenceKelly Maida © Copyright 2023 by Kelly Maida |
 Photo by Elisa Ventur on Unsplash |
I
am trying to find my voice but it is plagued in a sea of
responsibilities, that is drawing in doubt. I am trying to listen to
myself, but I can’t hear. Because somehow, I just feel fear.
And all of a sudden I feel so disconnected from myself and my
surroundings. It is as if your heart stopped and you can’t feel
your pulse. You are just existing and it feels like at any time you
could just stop or collapse. Why does society push us so hard? . . .
|
Summer 1970
Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan |
 Photo by Lucia Barreiros Silva at Pexels. |
This Chinese
character, (commonly used in written Korean), means Summer.The
high summer days in Korea were a test. The weather was hot and humid,
almost tropical, worse than the midsummer days of my childhood in
Virginia. All through July and August everyone talked of the heat and
how to mitigate the misery.
Some
of these notions were in the realm of folk remedies. The very kind
gentleman who taught me Chinese calligraphy, (his encouragement far
exceeded my meager skill), assured me of the efficacy of the ancient
adage “I-yŏl Chi-yŏl” which taught that
one should counter one kind of heat with another, and so one should
take hot liquids to cool off. . . .
|
Spring 1970
Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan |
 Photo by Setayesh Yousefnia on Unsplash |
This Chinese
character, (commonly used in written Korean), means springtime.In
the spring of 1970 when I had not been long in Korea, I had a sudden
and unexpected reminder of America, and in the process saw a
startling kind of strength and endurance.
In
those years I was a teacher at a middle school in Chunchŏn, in
Kangwŏn Province, northeast of Seoul. It was a mountainous area
with rivers and lakes created by the dam projects built after the
war. The war was, of course, a recent memory and the scars of the
conflict were still in evidence. . . .
Batty For RussellJudy Quan © Copyright 2024 by Judy Quan |
 Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported |
Like
most people I meet, I was initially afraid of bats, erroneously
believing them to be scary, aggressive creatures of dark fiction. I
am an avid animal lover, and at one time, after viewing an
educational piece about Bat World Sanctuary in west Texas, I wished I
lived closer to the sanctuary so I could volunteer there. . . .
Most of us remember the first time we saw a place where we spent a significant period of our lives — a new neighborhood, or a college campus seen for the first time — but I have an even more vivid memory of the journey that first took me to such a place, Chunchŏn, the town where I was a school teacher for two years, and I still have the clearest recollection of the bus ride that took me there. . . .
| The
Chunchŏn Road Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan |
 Image by Pexels from Pixabay |
Most of us remember the first time we saw a place where we spent a significant period of our lives — a new neighborhood, or a college campus seen for the first time — but I have an even more vivid memory of the journey that first took me to such a place, Chunchŏn, the town where I was a school teacher for two years, and I still have the clearest recollection of the bus ride that took me there. . . .
Taxi Dancer
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A warm Santa Ana breeze blew in the half open bedroom window, stirring the curtains and tinkling the wind chime which hung outside on the patio. Amanda sat on her bed painting her toenails fire engine red while listening to the Lakers game on the radio. When the phone rang, she turned down the volume on the radio and answered the phone on the second ring. . . .
Preserverance In The Green IdyllRon Halvorson © Copyright 2024 by Ron Halvorson |
 Image by Veronica Bosley from Pixabay |
This
job didn't take talent, or brains. Hell, a monkey could be
trained to water plants. What it did take was the will to
persevere against never ending adversity. Simple folks
working
in a simple economy: seeds, shovels, dirt, sun,
water. . . .
| The Woman Steven Douglas Elwood
© Copyright 2024 by Steven Douglas Elwood
|
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
|
This is the memory of my Mother. |
Her graying thick dark brown hair was always unruly. Her emerald eyes were always gleaming. Her face, though weathered and aged, was still beautiful. She had a quiet strength about her. . . .
| Identity Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan |
 Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
At the start of life, our identity is defined with a few plain facts — place, date, parents’ names and the family name they bestow — but at the other end of life, we are someone entirely different, with another identity created by our own acts and the paths we choose. The earliest facts of our lives tell us very little and even this little may be misleading. For example, I hold in my hand a birth certificate and a baptism certificate which state facts about how I started my life, and yet the former did not truly state the case, and the latter defined me as something I never fully accepted. . . .