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My apprenticeship in cabinet making had included a fair few hours of learning the finishing side of the trade. Using and learning about stains, grain filler, linseed oil, shellac, and spraying lacquer were all part of my work week.
After working in a small country workshop for several years, I landed a position in a larger shop in Cambridge, not as a cabinetmaker as I had hoped, but as a finisher of the work of the other, more experienced, men in the shop. . . .
Although I seldom returned to the States in those days, a combination of events – a break from work and an anxious heart – found me in the Seattle airport in the late summer of 1973, passing through on my way east. Walking around the terminal between flights, taking in my first sight of America after a long spell away, filling my mind with impressions, thinking of anything but the reason that brought me back, I saw an old Korean woman standing in the middle of it all, perhaps lost and clearly distracted by the crowds hurrying past. . . .
In the 1950s farmer Grampa Albert in Zululand bought a Bull to be with his cows.
That Bull terrorized us children when we walked miles everyday across parts of five farms, on our way to school. All of us walked barefoot. All five farms were in our family. When we complained to family adults we were told to not take the shortcuts across the farms. . . .
You know how you feel when you receive an unexpected, sincere and from-the-heart compliment? And how the memory of it trickles down from your brain to create a warm place in your stomach any time you recall it? I received the first compliment of my life when I was eleven, and it was one of those. . . .
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.
Pennies From KJElizabeth Lopilato © Copyright 2025 by Elizabeth Lopilato |
 Photo courtesy of Pixabay. |
Most of us have dealt with the
expected loss of a parent, grandparent or anyone who has lived a full
life and is ready to go. It's a heartfelt loss and grieving
is a normal part of the circle of life. The loss of a child, no matter
what their age, is devastating to the parents. Parents are supposed
to go before their children in the normal pattern of life and
death. It's especially devastating when the loss is sudden
and tragic. . . .
| Amaxophobia Patricia M. Snell © Copyright 2025 by Patricia M. Snell  |
 Photo of the author |
My
husband and I live in a rural area. It’s at least a 30 minute
drive to get to places for shopping and other business. This is not a
good situation for someone with a fear of riding in a vehicle.
I suffer from amaxophobia. I fear riding in a vehicle. Amaxophobia prevents me from visiting my daughter in Baltimore, 374 miles away from where I live in New York. It prevents me from going to see my grandchildren, 368 miles away in Connecticut. My fear has gotten to the point that I can’t even tolerate a 2 hour drive to Syracuse to see my son and daughter-in-law. My husband and I both suspect my fear is rooted in a fear of losing control. . . .
I suffer from amaxophobia. I fear riding in a vehicle. Amaxophobia prevents me from visiting my daughter in Baltimore, 374 miles away from where I live in New York. It prevents me from going to see my grandchildren, 368 miles away in Connecticut. My fear has gotten to the point that I can’t even tolerate a 2 hour drive to Syracuse to see my son and daughter-in-law. My husband and I both suspect my fear is rooted in a fear of losing control. . . .
I'll Never Forget Her SmileFredrick Hudgin © Copyright 2025 by Fredrick Hudgin  |
 Photo Reiner at Pexels. |
I was in a hurry. My wife wanted flour tortillas instead of the corn tortillas that the recipe called for in the Cowgirl Casserole I planned to make for dinner. The line at the checkout had three people in front of me. Slowly, those people collected their groceries, paid the tab, and walked their carts out to the parking lot.
The elderly woman in front of me had trouble with the credit card reader. It kept declining her card. I glanced at the total on the display—seventy dollars and change. . . .
More...| Home
For Christmas Karen Radford Treanor
© Copyright 2025 by Karen Radford Treanor
|
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
“We
just need to find the cow monument,” I said as we drove through
the centre of the small New Hampshire town for the third time. “I’ll
know where we are from there—although it’s been over 20
years since the last time I was here.”
“If
here is in fact where we are and not somewhere
else,”
grumbled my sister, who was driving. “Are you sure this is the
right town?”
Fifth Person in the RoomGeorge R. Frost © Copyright 2025 by George R. Frost |
 Photo by Michael Gil at Wikimedia Commons. |
The
pain in my chest started at one in the morning. It was so intense; it
woke me up from a deep sleep. Amy, my wife 9-1-1 dialed. In
minutes, I could hear sirens in the distance.
I felt like I was drifting away on a cloud between this world and the next. Everything got blurry.
“They’re here.” Amy told me as the doorbell rang. . . .
I felt like I was drifting away on a cloud between this world and the next. Everything got blurry.
“They’re here.” Amy told me as the doorbell rang. . . .
The Forgotten GlassesGene Treanor © Copyright 2025 by Gene Treanor |
 Photo from Wikimedia Commons. |
My apprenticeship in cabinet making had included a fair few hours of learning the finishing side of the trade. Using and learning about stains, grain filler, linseed oil, shellac, and spraying lacquer were all part of my work week.
After working in a small country workshop for several years, I landed a position in a larger shop in Cambridge, not as a cabinetmaker as I had hoped, but as a finisher of the work of the other, more experienced, men in the shop. . . .
|
Short Pants
©
Copyright 2025 by James L. Cowles |
|
I
remember a time when life was much more of an adventure, and I was
much like a cat, very curious about so many things. It was a time
when the world was indeed, brand new to me, when in fact I, myself,
was also fairly new to the world. I am betting I am not alone in
this; that others remember that time in their life. In fact,maybe we
all were much the same. . . .
Ham and EggsFredrick Hudgin © Copyright 2025 by Fredrick Hudgin |
 Photo by by jeffreyw at Wikimedia Commons. |
When
I deployed to Vietnam in 1970, I had two MOSs (Military Occupational
Skill). One was as a fuel and electrical repairman. The other was a
truck driver. So, I was given a choice of which one would be used to
place me into a unit. I wanted to see the country and what the fuss
was all about, so I chose to be a truck driver.
Under WeighDoug Sherr © Copyright 2025 by Doug Sherr 2021 Winners Circle Contest Winner |
 Photo by Markos Mant on Unsplash |
The
Hawk swirled snow and debris down the alley knocking
over a
garbage can as I shoved the mattress into my station wagon. The Hawk
is Chicago’s brutal winter wind that carries enough humidity to
cut though the best winter clothes causing your bones to ache. I
threw in my bags carrying clothes, foul weather gear, zero temp-rated
sleeping bag and the plastic box holding my sextant. . . .
Tutus and Toe ShoesValerie Forde-Galvin © Copyright 2025 by Valerie Forde-Galvin |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I'm
not a dancer but I do know a bit more about ballet than most, having
worn the tutu at the tender age of four. My performing career as a
toddler was brief and unmemorable: recitals where I pranced blithely
upon a stage applauded by adoring relatives. . . .
| Lucky
Jakkal Ezra Azra © Copyright 2025 by Ezra Azra
|
 Photo by Dfpindia at Wikimedia Commons. |
Normally,
there were many, many sounds of wild animals at night on our family
farm in Africa. I was born on that farm, and lived there my first
twenty-nine years.
| I'll
Be Seeing You Sara Etgen-Baker © Copyright 2025 by Sara Etgen-Baker |
 Photo of Winnie and Ed Etgen courtesy of the author |
My
mother grew up during the Depression in Liberal, Kansas. When the
Liberal Army Airfield was constructed during World War II she, like
so many American women of the era, felt compelled to serve her
country. So, she quit her teaching job and worked as a civil servant
at the Airfield where she met and later married my father. . . .
| The
Kaleidiscope Effect Sara Etgen-Baker © Copyright 2025 by Sara Etgen-Baker |
  Photos courtesy of the author.. |
. . . I stood at the altar
next to my husband-to-be and said, “I do,” not fully
comprehending that I was also saying “I do” to two
ex-wives and three stepchildren, the youngest of which was 5 years
old. Although I was 31, I knew little about being a wife and even
less about being a stepmother. But I loved Bill and willingly
accepted the circumstances, confident I’d figure it out along
the way. . . .
|
Monadnock Giles Ryan © Copyright 2025 by Giles Ryan
|
 Photo from the top of Mt. Monadnock courtesy of the author. |
Here
in New England, about forty of us, old friends, have come together
again to mark the fifty years since we all first gathered for Peace
Corps language training, a shared experience followed by another, our
time in Korea as school teachers, after which we were never the same. . . .
|
The
Armenian Church in Dhaka -1979 Giles Ryan © Copyright 2025 by Giles Ryan
|
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
It
was a spring day in Dhaka, the monsoon still some weeks away. Ashraf
and I were having tea one day in my office, the usual strong brew –
the best leaf from Sylhet – to which he had added three spoons
of sugar for the taste that Bangladeshis considered the right,
true cha. My own cup made do with one
spoonful because,
after all, might not three spoons be – in the words of the
catechism – an occasion of sin?
But I put this thought aside and asked, “Do you know where I might get an old book rebound?” Ashraf had spent all his life in Dhaka, knew all its neighborhoods and was the best source for information. . . .
But I put this thought aside and asked, “Do you know where I might get an old book rebound?” Ashraf had spent all his life in Dhaka, knew all its neighborhoods and was the best source for information. . . .
|
The Loneliness of the Long Distance Rucker K. S. Anthony © Copyright 2025 by K. S. Anthony |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
The
first three miles always suck. It's not that they're painful; it's
that they're uncomfortable. There's no amount of strap or waist belt
adjusting that helps. It's just a question of getting used to your
ruck digging into your shoulders and moving the weight –
your new weight
– and the rest of you forward, upward, outward... away from
conventional comfort and towards the quiet embrace of
discomfort. . . .
|
Although
Then A Stranger
K. S. Anthony © Copyright 2025 by K. S. Anthony |
 Photo by José Martín Ramírez Carrasco at Unsplash. |
“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.” – T.S. Eliot
"I want the beginning of you and the ending of you to myself.". . .
|
Continuity
K. S. Anthony © Copyright 2025 by K. S. Anthony |
 |
J
left for two months, returned for a week, then left again. She was as
good at leaving me as she was at loving me, though after the first
few times, it no longer hurt the way it had the first. I missed her,
but I learned that missing her came with the territory and, as such,
I came to accept it. J’s leaving was — and
is — simply part of how she loved me. . . .
|
Emily
Robert Flournoy © Copyright 2023 by Robert Flournoy |
 Photo by musicFactory lehmannsound at Pexels.
|
My
old truck started sputtering for no reason other than its' age, so I
pulled over to let it catch a breath. Out of boredom, and looking for
things past, I seek out dirt roads in my spare time, which is pretty
much all the time. Something now compelled me to walk back along the
hot dusty road for a hundred steps, picking some black berries out of
the drainage ditch along the way, their twisting tunnels of thorns
entwining with the rotten fence posts that had been there for
generations. When there came a break in the fence, the faint remnants
of an old wagon rutted road emerged for just a glance, its'
impression immediately lost in the decades of greenery that had over
run it. . . .
|
Seattle
1973 Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan
|
 Photo by Thom Milkovic on Unsplash |
Although I seldom returned to the States in those days, a combination of events – a break from work and an anxious heart – found me in the Seattle airport in the late summer of 1973, passing through on my way east. Walking around the terminal between flights, taking in my first sight of America after a long spell away, filling my mind with impressions, thinking of anything but the reason that brought me back, I saw an old Korean woman standing in the middle of it all, perhaps lost and clearly distracted by the crowds hurrying past. . . .
|
Tsuji-san Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan
|
 Waiting at the Yasukuni Shrine. Photo courtesy of the author. |
Tsujiuchi
Shigeru was a friend and colleague. For many years beginning in 1984,
we worked together, mostly in Japan but also on occasion in Korea,
Taiwan and Hong Kong. In the Tokyo office his colleagues always
called him Tsuji-san, which is the kind of affectionate
name-shortening that is common among men in Japan, and he was
well-liked by all who knew him. His daily commute from the far
western suburbs of the city with a change of trains in Shinjuku
Station would have been a trial to a much younger person, but he
avoided the worst of it by coming in very early before the terrible
rush-hour crush. He opened the office each morning and when the rest
of us arrived we found the coffee already made. . . .
| The
Day We Children Decided There Be No More Bull Ezra Azra © Copyright 2025 by Ezra Azra |
 Photo by muhammed-zafer-yahsi-SASgyQxbOJs-on unsplash |
In the 1950s farmer Grampa Albert in Zululand bought a Bull to be with his cows.
That Bull terrorized us children when we walked miles everyday across parts of five farms, on our way to school. All of us walked barefoot. All five farms were in our family. When we complained to family adults we were told to not take the shortcuts across the farms. . . .
|
"I Am So Sorry, I Didn't Mean Any Harm"
©
Copyright 2024 by James L. Cowles |
|
I
did some pretty crazy things in my youth, but I would guess I'm not
alone in that. When you are young, you mistakenly believe you will
never get caught, no matter how outrageous the prank you pull happens
to be.
One
that I personally remember vividly, involved a saber sword and a
large piece of construction equipment. I can't recall why I had that
saber with me that night, but I do remember it being used to puncture
a very large tire on a tractor that was being used in highway
construction in Louisville, Ky. . . .
| Eurydice
and Orpheus Ezra Azra © Copyright 2024 by Ezra Azra |
 Painting by Edward Poynter (1836–1919) at Wikimedia Commons. |
Orpheus
fell in love with Eurydice, and she with him. They decided to get
married. They were in their twenties.
Eurydice
was an orphan. Nobody knew anything about her parents or other
family, or where she had come from.
Orpheus
first saw Eurydice at a concert. She was among the cheering fans of
his singing, and playing the Kithara and the Lyre.
Orpheus’s Mother, Princess Calliope, was not happy her son wanted to marry someone who had no traceable family heritage. After all, Calliope could trace her own ancestry countless generations back all the way to Zeus, almighty god democratically elected by the countless other almighty gods to be king of gods, forever. . . .
Orpheus’s Mother, Princess Calliope, was not happy her son wanted to marry someone who had no traceable family heritage. After all, Calliope could trace her own ancestry countless generations back all the way to Zeus, almighty god democratically elected by the countless other almighty gods to be king of gods, forever. . . .
A Complement of ComplimentsJudith Nakken © Copyright 2024 by Judith Nakken |
 Photo by mart production at Pexels. |
You know how you feel when you receive an unexpected, sincere and from-the-heart compliment? And how the memory of it trickles down from your brain to create a warm place in your stomach any time you recall it? I received the first compliment of my life when I was eleven, and it was one of those. . . .
|
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. . . .