My forty-two words for Yeah Write’s Gargleblaster Challenge. The prompt…“Tell me something, old friend: why are you fighting?” She sat by me in the auditorium, more hair missing now than present under her scarf. The lights dimmed. “Why are we here? You should be…” “Shh. Our daughters are on stage. This is where I should be.” I held…
“Fuck” sounds like Fük or “Foook” if said by a sixteen year old French exchange student. Last year I exclaimed, “never again,” but I’ve come to realize that no one ever really listens to me, so here we are, one more time committed to scholastic international relations. We have a French exchange student staying with us…
It’s only money if you have it. The same holds true for hair. It seems easier to give when money abounds. If I’m not worried about paying for groceries or my electricity being shut off, I’m more willing to share, donate, or give money to someone in need. If, however, I hit a point where…
I have only been scared a handful of times in my life. Of those, I was only terrified once. I’ve stood up for my family or friends, but I’ve never moved a mountain, led a cause. I’m not sure one has presented itself to me. I’m certain I have never sought one out. I’ve never…