3:00 a.m. – instantly awake. Sliver of welcome-home light still shines under my door a silent revelation: he is not yet home. All sleep securely bound and trussed by the everlasting umbilical cord, I go downstairs with my sedatives – pillow, journal, pen – assume my post on the couch and wait. Every cell tingles… Continue reading Everlasting Umbilical Cord
Black shark glides through blue heavens. Torpedo in the sky pierces. The tower explodes billows of orange. Four deadly missiles launched that clear Tuesday morning in September. Four generous and trusting planes, pregnant with fire-eager fuel. Four passenger lists – mostly ordinary people and 18 ruthless, cold fanatics. Four hits: 8:48 - World Trade Center,… Continue reading Earthquake in the Sky
"I don't want to pray," slap words sting from my four-year-old daughter. How have I millstoned God to her so she won't bring her earaches to Him? I remember "Are you saved?" evangelistic, zealous aunt cornered me, seven. Next time she visited, I hid. Jesus is different His words a compelling beckon lure-and-bait questions irresistible… Continue reading I Don’t Want to Pray
The day Daddy died I found myself alone in the farmhouse and I was like Samson when he awoke to Delilah’s “The Philistines are on you!” Then the ropes of new habits – weighing 3 oz. of tuna, 2 oz. of cheese apportioning rice, or potatoes or pasta in meager ½ cup servings, eating my… Continue reading The Day Daddy Died
Gravel path separates sea and beach houses – enticing castles with great glass vistas, rustic arbors porticos of stone sheltering lazy loungers, chairs in conversation. Protected by moats – gardens, outlined in stone, brick, white picket, brown cedar, rounded shrubs smooth as shaved heads, filled with green velvet and planters spilling daffodils, pansies, sprays of… Continue reading On Crescent Beach
I take my walk just in time under the frowning sky, share the green with black crows and white gulls. They graze while I ponder should I give it up this tinkering with words that pilfers time from creased shirts and dusty corners? There’s little coin to justify hours spent and what will be its… Continue reading I take my walk just in time
Violet Nesdoly 