February 1, 2024

The Twelve Suspects of Christmas: A Book Review

Why, it’s The Twelve Suspects of Christmas by Ana T. Drew. It’s the Die Hard of cozy Christmas mysteries - an engaging mystery full of intrigue and spies that happens to take place at Christmas rather than a Christmas book that happens to have a mystery. Well, minus all the shooting. There’s really only a couple of knives and a jar of cinnamon.
January 26, 2024

Emma’s Place, Part 2

At the front desk I asked the concierge if she had seen Amelia. The concierge furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes. “Amelia? Amelia? I don’t recall anyone named Amelia.” The concierge must have been new, to not know Amelia, although I could have sworn she was an old hand. “What’s the full name?”
January 23, 2024

Emma’s Place, Part 1

On my way, I thought I heard them talking about me. As I neared the table they stopped talking. Zoey looked guilty. Zoey always looked guilty. When I sat down they stared at me with – oh, I don’t know – sorrow, pity: something like that. In response I opened my hands palms up, and said, “What?” as I looked from one to the other.
January 17, 2024

Anatomy of a Memory, Part 2

But the highlight of the event was the momentous meeting between Luna Lyngdoh and Meban Tsangpa, a Samanera or novice monk. A woke, computer-trained graduate, he had been inducted into the monastery as a trainee. He followed many of the cardinal religious precepts but had not yet attained higher ordination which would make him a Bhikkhu or a full-fledged monk. 
January 16, 2024

The Anatomy of a Memory, Part 1

Meghalaya in monsoon — the perfect time to explore and embrace the beauty of the Sacred Woods. Luna smiled to herself as she recalled this much-loved refrain from her days of childhood and youth. She walked past the moss-slickened stones, boulders flecked with the chartreuse lichen, stopping to admire the white coral mushrooms that were so famous here.
January 13, 2024

The Night You Wanted Money

I couldn’t understand why you kept calling our parents, the phone ringing repeatedly before Dad silenced it. “He wants money,” Dad whispered knowingly to Mom. I was too young to understand that you’d done this all before: drunk texts and calls, expectations of payment, always late at night.
December 9, 2023

Squirrel

In the morning, I look out over the vegetable patch. Leaves are scattered. There is a hole in one of the beds. Someone has been pinching my carrots. I notice paw marks on the conservatory window and a deep scratch on the glass.  “I think we have a visitor,” I say to my wife. “A squirrel.”
December 8, 2023

Before They’re Gone

Three little girls were walking up the steep part of a dirt road toward the wooden railroad bridge.  So much happened at the railroad bridge. It was where they could find all the other kids in the neighborhood who had bare feet and scabby knees like they had. It was a place to play, and talk, and underneath was a perfect hiding place.
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