THE WICKER BASKET

3:11 p.m. She looked up towards the window from her seated position on the floor to see the branches from the live oak tap tapping in a frenzied dance against the panes. 3:11 p.m. The house was silent now. On the first floor of the now almost empty cottage, all the possessions she had collected... Continue Reading →

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THE WICKER BASKET

Gina's Place

3:11 p.m.
She looked up towards the window from her seated position on the floor to see the branches from the live oak tap tapping in a frenzied dance against the panes.

3:11 p.m.
The house was silent now. On the first floor of the now almost empty cottage, all the possessions she had collected throughout her life lay in neatly sealed cardboard boxes.

3:12 p.m.
She began to breathe again as she watched the clock turn from 11 to 12. The wind whispered and ticked and at times screamed beyond the window.
She reached for the small, squat glass on the floor beside her: vodka and water, carefully measured so that she could drink all day long. This had become necessary after her father’s illness.
She shuddered at the memory of the room downstairs, the room where she had brought him to die. It had seemed like such a…

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Requiem for an Intellectual

The last time I traveled this path, I was just out of grad school.  My husband and I decided to go out to Arizona to see his best friend before he took a full time teaching position at a private school.  We piled into our white chevy van with his signed teaching contract in the... Continue Reading →

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