Things change quickly.
As I walk out to my car, I feel an ache in my chest. I realize her quandaries with religion grieve me almost as much as her cancer does.
Remember that people who succeed didn’t avoid failure; they just avoided quitting.
Please welcome Pushcart Prize nominee, Claire Scott and her poem “A Year Later.”
This underlying “not enough” feeling is one I am learning to accept with ease. It pushes me to consider what glimmers, even when I am resisting.
I had never been so close to tragedy, never witnessed the way hearts can splinter and crack. I was twenty years old, and it was too much. I was broken, after it happened; I was constantly breaking.
Torn between her only family tie and the personal connection she had with California’s northern coast, Mona Myers weighed her options while making her way in silent reflection down the mist-shrouded shore.
Did I want to unload my life? Give up many of the things that tie me down, and wind me up?
Maybe you’re imagining a Someday which doesn’t make you feel the above – or any of it. Maybe your Someday is not the kind to make you jump out of your bed in the morning, but the kind that gives you the will to get through another day. Maybe your Someday is your last shot at happiness, or health. It may not be much but just enough to keep you going.
But we all have that one battle in our fairytale-like Someday stories, and we all know it as the infamous reality check.
As part of our commitment to promote all artistic genres, we have decided to designate Wednesdays to share fiction, poetry, and short stories.
In a world obsessed with physical results, these subtleties of help and support, so nuanced and delicate, had escaped my awareness.