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January 11, 2021 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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My mother had been saying “I need to get out of here” for several hours. The night before, she had called out into the darkness from her recliner, that she was lost in the woods and...
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October 25, 2020 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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From under the awning, I could hear a sound like small fragmenting pieces of stone crashing into the window. The rain was starting to pour down from above; listening to it for a moment, I...
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October 24, 2020 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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When it came to playing, I lived with two experts. Zack had an imagination that turned the same stick into a dolphin, fishing pole, race car, pencil, or gun all in one day. Scott would...
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November 22, 2019 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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My father is on the phone screaming for me not to hang up. He says he is in a Hollywood, Florida hospital where he’s been taken against his will. The reason, I come to understand: He was...
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January 26, 2019 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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She’s there and not there, a ghost lying on the rug, an apparition sitting by my feet. Maggie, my sixteen-year-old miniature poodle, died two days ago. I see her regal head, her soft...
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March 16, 2018 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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“Oh I don’t see color… ” Please for the love of god STOP SAYING THAT! YOU DO SEE COLOR!!!! You’re supposed to, as per direct orders from the universe!...
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January 30, 2018 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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When folk singer Pete Seeger and some friends launched the Clearwater sloop nearly 50 years ago, the Hudson River was a fish-killing open sewer from industries and municipalities along...
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January 30, 2018 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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One spring Saturday in York County, Pennsylvania, my husband Fred picked up a five-gallon aluminum gas can he’d left on the asphalt by our garage over the winter. I was cleaning out the...
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June 29, 2015 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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It was my mother who first heard me say it. My mother, whom time and circumstance had never allowed the luxury of the birth control pill, who had planned only one of her five children, who...
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January 12, 2015 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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In third grade, I sat at a blue metal table outside on the blacktop. An older boy at the next table over said to me, “Your hair looks greasy.” I don’t even remember his name, but I...
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January 11, 2015 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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Sometimes little girls go topless in the warmth of the summer afternoon sun. There was no sense of embarrassment brought on by exposing our bare flat chests. Traffic didn’t stop, no one...
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June 26, 2014 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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The river is dark and murky. There is no reflection when I lean over the side of the tube. My vanity, though, is ephemeral. I’m too hot in this heavenly wasteland to wear my hair down, to...
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June 17, 2014 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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Men and boys have become increasingly violent. Within the last 13 years, all too common is the scenario of a male entering a public place, shooting folks and taking his life or that of...
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June 14, 2014 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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Tonight I am wishing I were two. I’d like to start all over again, right with the potty training, even, and try to do everything right this time. I remember potty training, believe...
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January 5, 2014 |
in Creative Nonfiction & Memoir |
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As the throng assembles, they note the colorful expressions of each hungry gaze. Rich, vivid, stained like the reds, blues, greens, and purples of the window behind the towering pulpit. In...