Was getting ready to watch THE NAKED CITY on YouTube, when the phone rang.
It was a woman named Hope who said she LOVED my email alerts.
Thank you ma'am.
Her old farm house in Bryn Mawr was targeted by a tornado - yes! - a tornado and half of the house was devastated.
Contractors are fixing it now.
...
Just came home from chasing LISA the mail woman. We each wore masks. I had gotten lots of mail - bills, it looked like - but now I was carrying something for my sister Lynn, my faithful reader of my short stories.
I tucked a Harney and Sons Pumpkin Spice tea bag in there.
...
As you may know when Mom was alive we would meet every Sunday at her house.
I would frequently have tea or coffee, so I bought them a whistling tea pot, the same I use here at home.
Bradford is the maker.
How we'd argue about that tea kettle.
Mom had an electric tea kettle you'd plug in. Took a long time till it boiled.
...
Just now was watching a dreadful film noir and napping to it.
Oh no! Had the mail come? Yes. Inside I had a check for $10 for Cynthia Marcolina's newest poetry book, the only thing of importance in the box.
...
In the middle of the night, I wrote my short story THE VICTOR. One of the worst stories I've ever wrin, but was determined to write about it.
We'll see what my writing group has to say about it.
...
RUNNING HOT
In my scuffed Clarke shoes
carrying my blue mask and a letter for Lynn
watch me run along the hilly sidewalks
chasing the mail man.
Ah, it was Lisa, on her smart phone,
texting her three kids perhaps or her
husband who works at Costco.
I made it, I made it,
and now to read in my comfy bedroom
fan turned on, rice brewing in the
crockpot downstairs.
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