Lizard
By Farrell Fand I should never have given Tommy that butterfly net. I just thought that a boy his age, 9, would love the fun and excitement of chasing lizards all over the Florida landscape. When I was his age, my parents took me on a vacation to the Bahamas and there were lizards all over the place. All I wanted to do...
Holding a Grudge
by Anna Fand On my first report card in Kindergarten I received a failing grade (an “F”) in Cooperation. Whenever I think about it, I still feel hurt and wonder “Why did Mrs. Powder treat me so harshly? Didn’t she know that two months earlier, my family and I had just arrived from Europe on a ship filled with...
Felecia
by Laura Janis Thompson I was fortunate . . . for a while, but now, I guess you could say I’m of an age where I’ve begun to go to more funerals. Beyond losing one much loved cousin—barely out of her twenties—to breast cancer, I hadn’t really lost anyone close to me. But soon, death, a snowball, became an avalanche. One...
The High Dive
by Laura Thompson —
I think I was around twelve when I decided that doing a backflip off the high dive would conquer my fear of leaping from the platform. Such a tactic was new for me as I am not impetuous and tend to shirk confrontation, but off the edge I leapt. It was hours before the red rash faded from my body, and my head stopped aching from the impact.
Sleep and the Writer’s Mind
by Laura Thompson —
All writers have experienced waking in the middle of the night with some of our best ideas. When that happens, we feel compelled to capture that inspiration before it floats away on a dream which is why many of us get so little sleep. It’s also why we keep small notebooks, cell phones, or even recorders within close reach. There are evenings we’re unable to shut our minds down, so sleep is elusive. These nights, I find, are the worst.
Family Photo
by Rusty Leverett —
My family is spread out on the lawn below me, all the ladies dressed in their finery. I wasn’t invited, but I never am anymore. This saddens me to no end, but no bother. I can watch and listen from here.
Spin the Globe
by Rusty Leverett —
What kind of club was this? What kind of people had I gotten myself mixed up with? From beneath lowered lashes, I checked out the faces in the room, seeing greed, fear, and curiosity. A reflection of my face in a mirror took me by surprise, betraying my nerves.
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