Religion, Consciousness, Dreams

On the occasion of her 60th birthday, Ginny sat down with a brand-new deck of tarot cards. She shuffled it well, letting her mind wander through the branches of her life: unfulfilled dreams, professional disappointments, a devoted husband, loving friends. Her quest for things unseen. The deck of cards had four suits — swords, coins,… Continue reading

A brand-new Chevy Tahoe appeared, wide and ill-fitting and shoving its way through the people strolling and shopping on the sweet-smelling Roman path. Forced to flee and nowhere to go, Ginny was close enough to kiss the driver as he passed, slowed by the violence of navigating a road built for saints and martyrs. She… Continue reading

It was the same street followed by St. Paul’s companions after he collapsed. The Bible humorously calls it Straight Street, though it was anything but. Wandering through the entrance to the Temple of Jupiter, her day switched abruptly from hot and stifling to cool and fresh. Slightly euphoric, she strolled the central road through a… Continue reading

When Ruby got to work, she found Toby eating in the break room. Did they ask you to train your replacement? she asked. Yes, he glumly nodded. Me too, she said, leaning against the door jam. What are you going to do? Finish my lunch, Toby said. Have a coffee. Punch out. File for unemployment.… Continue reading

How could she have come so far, to have traveled not at all? Ginny donned her prettiest dress and carefully combed her hair. With no idea who to be, she chose an image of a lovely woman without a care in the world. She’d go for a manicure, if she thought it was safe. Instead… Continue reading

Afraid of her own shadow, that’s what she is. It looks like other things; a bizarre obsession with the twist tie, an abundance of concern about the cricket, a determined effort to lift the carpet and smell the floor. A dizzying encounter with the headphones. Sometimes I wonder if her vision is impaired, but on… Continue reading

They seemed tight, no, taut. Not like rubber bands, and not like springs coiled and boxed away. They were like Silly Sand with all the silly forcibly removed. Lips were pursed. Sarcasm was dry. Instructions were precise. She walked into a world whose residents had tightened themselves against it, as if clipped sentences could keep… Continue reading

The sounds of pandemic rang in her ears, even when silence prevailed. But kitty knew nothing about it. Kitty’s world was stalking, patrolling, running-jumping-climbing, the house a jungle waiting new every day to be discovered by her kitty body and kitty bum. That evening, though, she sensed that Mummy was sad, the long night before… Continue reading

You can be a great artist if you have a great friend named Sketch. Sketch was always smiling; better, he was always grinning and he loped from one end of the gallery to the other because one of his skinny legs was a little shorter than the other. Today, the walls of the gallery were… Continue reading

I want today’s paragraph to come from a place deep inside me, deeper than the stillness, deeper than the silence. I wonder if there is a place in me like that. What if someone named Hubble, no not him, let’s call him Hubble, leaves such a profound mark on the way that we see and… Continue reading