By Maria Capezio Crookes The dialogues that happen in the still moments that I have by myself, while focusing on the routine of laundry, cooking, dishes, or driving kids to school, are sometimes lost in the busyness of my day. I write entire stories of bravery and courage while turning on Zarvis Rd., of grief and sadness when chopping onions, of hope and desperation folding T-shirts. I’ve come up with the answers that I couldn’t find in the heat of the moment. I have found the right words for my beloved.
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The Stuff of Legend
By Joe The Outer Banks were desolate come Fall. As a beige VW station wagon turned into the campground, I said, “Babes,” and caught sight of their strange dog. In his 70’s hormonally-challenged lexicon, Jim replied, “Serious ‘babage.’” A babe went into the dunes, and the other into the ocean. We gave chase. One evaporated into the dunes; the other outpaced Jim, who half-drowned as she vanished. Then suddenly we noticed: no babes, no VW, no dog. Jim whispered, “The legend… the legend of Exotica and Erotica and their dog el Spotica.” Witnesses to legend, we drank heavily.
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Sacrifico
By Angel J Anguilar I knew what Sacrifico was before I knew the translation in English Meaning Sacrifice It was when my mom would tell us that “Tu padre sacrifico todo por Ti y tu hermanos” The kind of talks my parents would give us And explain what was a sacrifice and Why families would do it Mis padres sacrifican toda para darnos un sueño A dream that they always wanted but instead They gave to us.
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Headlights
By Annelida SmithVail Bright headlights rushing past me, cold air, dark sky. It’s still October, I’m 23, but now I’m in the middle of winter, the middle of my adolescence, elsewhere in Anchorage. The school closes at 4, so I walk 10 minutes to the People Mover bus stop and stand there in the cold. The bus arrives just before 5, not caring that it was scheduled for 4:30, scheduled by planners who knew nothing of this place, this moment. Something large rushes past with blinding lights—a truck, a memory? Maybe a place, a moment, which I can no longer know.
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Adventures in Housesitting
By Jordan Hales Orange tabby cat paws pitter-patter on the wooden floor. He saunters to the kitchen at midnight to turn on and climb into the kitchen sink. WHY?! I don’t know, he’s an orange cat! He knocks over the glass bottle, claws the blinds down, and steals food off the table. His persistent meows fill the room—he has something to say. Always, he has something to say. He’s a crazy, chaotic ball of golden-orange fur, but all he wants is a scratch behind the ears, dinner, a little love, and the occasional grilled cheese sandwich. That orange tabby cat.
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It’s that time of year again
By Jordan Hales The leaves are yellow but frosted over. There’s snow in the mountains, yet it melts when it reaches sea level. It’s that time of year when school feels enlightening, but we’re all pushing through that midterm schlump. Sunshine still rises high in the sky, but the October chill takes away its warmth—our days are getting shorter and shorter. Scarves are wrapped tight, and coffee is piping hot. Assignments are in at the end of the day…at 11:59. Winter tires are on, and now we wait for the snow. It’s that time of year again.
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New Beginnings
By Maria Capezio Crookes Day 1 Mother stopped the car in front of the house, where the fence paused to give space to the pathway to the front door. She turned the car off and put her head on the wheel. The rest of the family looked out the car window and stared at the new house. Built in the 1960’s, the house looked and felt old, but with a strange modern touch; it reminded Mother of the house from I dream of Jeannie. The two trees in the front yard lined the pathway, creating the illusion of a tunnel of leaves and low branches; there were rose bushes under…
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Might as well
By Maria Capezio Crookes I- The Chair Last Saturday, an ordinary one, I was in the living room, sitting on my favorite chair facing the window, letting the silence of the snow falling accompany me, with a blanket on my lap, my book, and my coffee. Taking a deep breath, I looked around and saw that the stack of Christmas cards we received was still sitting on the shelf where I left them in January. I shrugged, and thought, “I might as well do it, otherwise it’s not getting done.” I grabbed the cards and couldn’t help looking through them. Pictures of babies and dogs, letters of aunties with detailed…
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The Mighty Wrangler Sue
By Laura Ditto I’m sure you must have heard of many cowboy men— Billy the Kid and Buffalo Bill— but this ain’t about all them. See, I doubt you know that among the plains, a mighty girl once roamed with skill about the reins. In fiesty herds of cattle she always stood her ground and fired a blazing pistol with a deafening sound. Yes, it is she— who rangers never slew— the fearsome, frightening, fighting: the Mighty Wrangler Sue. They say she could mend clothes, while riding cross the range, yodeling into the night so folks all called her strange. She liked to walk in trousers, and…
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Love
By Kenneth A Hughes It’s wave after crashing wave Over the walls and spreading wetting Filling every space and bursting past Rippling with vibrations Pulsating emanating generating pumping out Overwhelming all encompassing Reverberating releasing relays Splashing forth and ever present Nothing but this is important to remember Always will and will be Captivated appreciated celebrated Flowing edges onward pouring Steadily gaining maintaining the volume Breathe it in and breathe it out It’s all we are and all we need As is the way of the stars Grow like a flower Share this Love Love eternally Love
