I haven't used my "ivory-laid" stationery in a couple of years. It was actually dusty.
I cleaned up this room - I call it The Study or The Writing Room.
Here's today's FB poem
LETTER WRITING
Two letters will go
out today to Western Pennsylvania
with my condolences to a
former client of mine who
died.
Life wasn't kind to her. She
dared to disobey her mother's
mother's kind of love. Passive,
allowing terrible things to happen,
to my client, which dented her
fragile porcelain body.
But my client survived in adulthood
as more tragedies were piled upon
her, like falling autumn leaves.
She asked in a Facebook post,
Is God testing me?
Yes, Dear One, he was. And is.
Each one of us who lives on our
own Monopoly board with our
own set of dice.
Once she made me a basket with silk
roses. It sat for years in my study
but then like Pluto, faded away.
Know this. In my own fragile body
she left an unforgettable imprint.
She will be with me forever like
the jagged peaks on the moon.
***
Am racing now to finish a new short story that is due by 6:15, when Linda comes to pick me up and drive me to some farflung place where we'll meet.
It'll be calling the story something like THE WIDOW. I got the idea when I look out the kitchen window where the young widow lives next door with her family.
I had no idea what to write about till I looked out the window!
Just finished the story THE WIDOW.
We'll see what the group thinks.
Am also bringing the story COLD, rejected by everyone.
Am eating a mushroom cheese omelet now. Porch light on waiting for L I N D A
dared to disobey her mother's
mother's kind of love. Passive,
allowing terrible things to happen,
to my client, which dented her
fragile porcelain body.
But my client survived in adulthood
as more tragedies were piled upon
her, like falling autumn leaves.
She asked in a Facebook post,
Is God testing me?
Yes, Dear One, he was. And is.
Each one of us who lives on our
own Monopoly board with our
own set of dice.
Once she made me a basket with silk
roses. It sat for years in my study
but then like Pluto, faded away.
Know this. In my own fragile body
she left an unforgettable imprint.
She will be with me forever like
the jagged peaks on the moon.
***
Am racing now to finish a new short story that is due by 6:15, when Linda comes to pick me up and drive me to some farflung place where we'll meet.
It'll be calling the story something like THE WIDOW. I got the idea when I look out the kitchen window where the young widow lives next door with her family.
I had no idea what to write about till I looked out the window!
Just finished the story THE WIDOW.
We'll see what the group thinks.
Am also bringing the story COLD, rejected by everyone.
Am eating a mushroom cheese omelet now. Porch light on waiting for L I N D A
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