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Talespinning by Susan Gibb is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at susangibb.net.
Tag Archives: Psychological Realism
274/365 – SAYING YES
Word Count: 288 I said yes because I was thirty years old and alone in the city. I said yes because he was the first real man that I’d known. Because at thirty you think your life is already half … Continue reading
272/365 – REINCARNATION
Word Count: 270 In a past life I was a sugar maple tree. Men with metal cut into my skin. My sap flowed like blood at their touch. My children were seeded with the wind until I grew old and … Continue reading
Posted in Psychological Realism, Women's Issues
Tagged Psychological Realism, Women's Issues
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268/365 – ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE TREES
Word Count: 316 The man on the other side of the trees is building something I know. There’s the clank-clank of the ladder, the humming buzz of the saw. I smell wood freshly cut. It’s hot in these last days … Continue reading
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267/365 – MAY AND DECEMBER
Word Count: 263 You look at me differently though you say no, that’s not true. And I don’t have the courage to push it. Ten years between twenty and thirty is nothing. I was a woman compared to the girls … Continue reading
Posted in Psychological Realism, Women's Issues
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265/365 – CYCLES OF THE SUN
Word Count: 242 I can’t help it. That song from the sixties runs through my head. Skeeter Davis. Why does the sun go on shining? Why does the sea rush to shore? Don’t they know, it’s the end of the … Continue reading
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256/365 – CHANGE OF VIEW
Word Count: 240 I stand outside the back door and look around the yard. The trees are black against the cool blue-gray morning sky. Bushes are mere shadows that slip into the distance. The fat yellow moon is on my … Continue reading
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255/365 – THOUGHTS ON DRIVING IN ON DARK SEPTEMBER MORNINGS
Word Count: 312 Autumn Monday mornings fall like rain, two days darker, two days deeper into winter. Five a.m. is dawnless, creeping up without the sun. Eventually you flick on the headlights to drive to work. Eventually again, you don’t … Continue reading
251/365 – THE MONKEY
Word Count: 240 The monkey on my back is a rare Callicebus from Brazil. Just discovered about a decade ago, it found its way over ocean and land to attach itself to me while I slept. He’s a chattery little … Continue reading
250/365 – THE BATTLE
Word Count: 205 I miss the whisper of the twin cottonwood trees, their large leaves catching each nuance of gossip the subtle breeze speaks. Torn down by a hurricane, a woman with more strength than the brothers, their tips scraping … Continue reading
248/365 – HATRED
Word Count: 461 Sometimes the anger comes up so bitter and caustic that I’m afraid my stomach will come out my mouth. I imagine it happening, spitting out bile in his face, having it melt his features like acid, his … Continue reading