Honoring the Art of Creative Living
“When I breathe in, I’ll breathe in peace. When I breathe out, I’ll breathe out love.” ~ Sarah Dan Jones I’ve been thinking a lot about breathing lately. Maybe it’s the images from the wildfires in California, or maybe it’s that I’ve spent a good chunk of the last week fighting, and finally succumbing to, …
She stands at the edge of the sea, her messy sun-gold braids hanging down her back, her tanned face and hands sticky with watermelon juice. “Rinse off,” her grandmother urges from beneath her enormous straw sunhat, the one that offsets the prominence of the equally large bosom sheathed in a practically bulletproof bathing suit. (She …
Continue reading “Snapshots from the Shore by Melissa A. Bartell”
He’s waiting there, at the edge of the parking lot, in the spaces where flitters and aircars are parked nose-to-nose with family-sized SUV’s, the end of a cigarette between his teeth. His skin is weathered, his hat is likely as old as he his, but his eyes, faded blue – like old denim – are …
She didn’t collect selfies on her phone, and rarely allowed photos to be taken at all. When asked why she would joke that she was the most unphotogenic (which isn’t a word, but should be) person in the world. But it wasn’t true. The truth was that when she was five, her mother’s first husband …
Continue reading “Portrait in Pen and Ink by Melissa A. Bartell”
Two years ago, driving home from a visit to my husband’s family in South Dakota, we were in rural Nebraska when we passed by a lush, green, field. It was the kind of farmland typical of a postcard image, and it was beautiful, until we saw the sign “Presented by Monsanto” at the corner of …
Continue reading “Instrumental: Farmbox Adventures by Melissa A. Bartell”
In the end, it was his hat that clinched it. She’d taken the short-cut through the forest for as long as she could remember, maybe even longer. As a child, she’d skipped down the path, heedless of what the brambles might be doing to the hem of her blue dress, or the ruffles on her …
Continue reading “Not Exactly Persephone by Melissa A. Bartell”
The old man’s eyes were growing dimmer with each passing year, but he still completed the crossword puzzle in the paper every day – and the big one in the Sunday Times – as if it was some kind of a ritual. He needed a magnifier, now, to see the grid, but he didn’t seem …
Continue reading “Grocery Store Flowers: Crosswords and Sunflowers by Melissa A. Bartell”
Daisy Morris ran a tired hand through her long red hair, grimacing when the ring on her left hand caught in her braid. The day before Mother’s Day was always crazy-busy, and her flower kiosk had been the epicenter of a steady buzz of traffic. She lowered her hand to glance at her wristwatch. It …
Continue reading “Grocery Store Flowers: Jack by Melissa A. Bartell”
Dear Spring, I have to confess, I’ve developed a sort of love/hate relationship with you over the years. It was inevitable, I guess. I mean, no one stays in love forever, right? As a child, the coming of spring meant that I got to put away heavy winter coats and thick tights that were always …
(Part IV of the Tea series, follows Stewing) “Where are you taking me?” Sarah asked. She was in the front passenger seat of David’s car, one of his neckties forming a blindfold. She could have peeked around the edges – the knot at the back of her head wasn’t that tight – but her boyfriend …
Continue reading “Stirring & Settling, by Melissa A. Bartell”