
My daughter, Gaia
MicroFiction in 48 words incorporating “earth”. Brought to you by an exhausted parent who is tired of cleaning glitter off everything.
MicroFiction in 48 words incorporating “earth”. Brought to you by an exhausted parent who is tired of cleaning glitter off everything.
This time, last week I was at my local supermarket, crying in the snacks aisle. Rrruffles has rrridgessss! The blue bag of chips screamed, but I couldn’t see the ridges… Read more »
She’s in the garden digging at the roots of the rosebush. Her straw hat and gray chignon bob up and down to the tune of the song she’s humming. She… Read more »
…I’m a writer. Observing people is what I do. I also stare into space sometimes. If you knew, you’d stop thinking I was interested in you. You’d stop trying to… Read more »
I’ve tried this experimental form for a personal essay – the mosaic or the braided essay. I’ve only used it for fiction before.
Editor’s note : It’s easy to think that essays must always be linear – A happens then B happens then C happens. But some of the most engaging essays don’t… Read more »
Last week I was knee-deep in the parenting trenches, with two jet lagged kids and my husband traveling for work. So naturally, my brain slid to the conclusion that I… Read more »
Fire covers the pine forest in copper hues, lighting up his eyes as he fights it. At home his palms sweat. There are unpaid bills, his wife didn’t get that… Read more »
December has always been a wonderful month for me, writing-wise and otherwise. It’s starting to look like this year won’t be any different. Some of you might remember a little… Read more »
I feel naked without kohl rimming my eyes. Amma’s dementia is getting worse; I’ve forgotten myself. The vegetable vendor asks, “You okay, didi? Were you crying?” I smile. No one… Read more »