Tag Archives: 100 Days 2012

Word Count:  422 Today I went to shop at all my usual Friday spots. I’d sliced my nose off from my face last night. I wondered if someone might notice. Say Oh my God what happened? or Are you okay? … Continue reading →

Word Count:  436 She was old, stingy-mean with her money. Wore thin cotton dresses covered with flowers that once had been blue. Kept her cookie jar filled with freshly baked oatmeal or chocolate chip. In a hug, she smelled like … Continue reading →

Word Count:  383 She hated the chickens. Hated the bees. Hated the bees the most. When they’d met he had called himself a gentleman farmer. She thought that meant tomatoes and peppers and beans. By the time he took her … Continue reading →

Word Count:  656 In my mother’s fine script, a note: This is your grandfather’s finger. Cut off right after he died. First, shock. Then a giggle. My mom had been well known for her great sense of humor. I should … Continue reading →

Word Count:  362 The phone rang and I climbed down from the ladder to answer it. I was expecting a call. I’d left questions on a tape at my health insurance office and three days later, I figured they’d be … Continue reading →

Word Count:  401 Her name was Sabia and she had the walk of a poem. Flowing and brimming with quiet life. Each step, like each line, subtle beauty. Each one important as a word. Her young body, hidden within the … Continue reading →

Word Count:  139 “Who’s up next?” “I’d say the elderly. The Boomers.” “We’re down to six weeks, right?” “About that.” “Who’ve we hit so far?” “The college crowd. Education, two in one on teachers and students. Wait, parents too, with … Continue reading →

Word Count:  364 “Score!” he shouted, nearly knocking over my soda. He took football a lot more seriously than I did but I did enjoy a good college game from the stands. They got the field goal and Ted looked … Continue reading →

Word Count:  382 He was Peter Rabbit and Cupid and Santa. He was Uncle Sam on the Fourth of July. Bozo the clown on summer Saturdays and birthdays, a stripper at bachelorette parties usually held Friday nights. He was forty-seven … Continue reading →

Word Count:  662 “Look, you just can’t play here anymore,” I said. He looked at me without saying a word. “Really,” I persisted, trying to ignore the large lump of bad I felt hanging around me. I hated being forced … Continue reading →