Ay caramba, Martha, get that cat a parachute — “Martha — the cat’s in my sweater drawer again.” The huge marmalade cat named “Cat” opened one eye. He regarded me for a moment, as only a cat could who knew he was master of all he surveyed. He’d wandered in one rainy afternoon almost twelve years ago. A soggy…

Stumbling Towards Gilead — Chapter Ten — Luc jerked awake. His bed-chamber was dark and cool. He raised a hand to his forehead. Why am I sweating? Whatever’d startled him from sleep was gone. He tried to hold onto it. But, it faded, leaving behind a snatch of song. Where do I begin To tell the story of…

Lit Up Summer Holiday Prompt — What the hell was I doing, standing in the middle of the weed-filled, over-grown, fair-grounds? The carnival folk had faded into the night ten years ago. Left everything — burnt-out trailers, broken rides, flattened concessions… I stared at my reflection in the grimy, fly-specked glass of the Fortune Teller’s booth…

A cautionary tale — The dreadful addiction of Atticus Lee was driving his parents apart; His poor mother moaned, but his father condoned What brought joy to his only son’s heart; The dreadful addiction, bad habit? affliction? It started when he was a boy; He loved the containers his Christmas gifts came in, But cared not…

Stumbling Towards Gilead — Chapter Nine — The little boy skipped towards the central plaza. One of hundreds of school-age boys. Hair slicked down, shoes mirror-bright. All with identical brown leather knapsacks over identical blue-blazers. The only thing to set this boy apart, aside from his singular gait, was the awkward bulge in his knapsack. And he…

Stumbling Towards Gilead — Chapter Eight — As revolutions go, ours was pretty quiet. I resigned my committee post and retired to our family cottage beside Lake Michigan. My sister and I raise organic vegetables. We have a dozen fruit trees. A berry patch. Fugitives hiding in the root cellar. The usual… The tunnels under the city-domes…

Through thick an’ thin, friends fer life — I guess ya could say one broken window’s pretty much like any other. If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen ’em all. ‘Specially if yer any good at knockin’ a long fly-ball down the third base-line. Which I happen ta be. ‘Cept this one wasn’t just any broken window. It was…

Stumbling Towards Gilead — Chapter Seven — “She’s beautiful.” “Oh, my dear, she looks like your mother.” “You must be so pleased. And after such a long wait.” “A little girl to follow in mama’s footsteps.” “Has Aaron seen her yet?” “She’s absolutely perfect.” Perfect— yes. Another sweet little girl to cook and clean. Another pair of…