Jebidiah Mason was just six years old when the Civil War came to an end. His momma and daddy helped to free the slaves by opening their home to those fleeing for a better life through the Underground Railroad. His brother gave his life in the war, fighting for the North and the freedom and … Continue reading The Bridge
Writing
Flying
Being single for the first time in twenty years was scary. Having to rely on the courting skill set of a pubescent boy of the 90’s was nothing short of a nightmare.Frankly, O’Brien didn’t know where to start. He and Amelia had been together since they were fifteen years old, and then they weren’t. She … Continue reading Flying
It was a blustery winter day and Tricia most certainly did not want to venture out to the mailbox. No sir, not after she saw how the mail truck rocked to and fro on its journey down the road. Not after she saw how Richie the mailman’s hat flew off and he nearly took a … Continue reading Mail
Four a.m.
Four a.m. and he still isn’t home. Four a.m. and all there is to show for it is the ache in my back from ceaseless tossing and the ever-present, ever-darkening circles under my eyes. Four a.m. and the condensation on my water glass has long since made a ring on my nightstand—sweating through the wood … Continue reading Four a.m.
Eyes.
And then I let my eyes move beneath my lids, side to side. Up and down. Back and forth and around and around around. I imagine that they’re twirling like the vertigo swirl. I imagine that they’re skating on ice and swimming in the sea.
The Women’s March
I could write about how it’s been six days since the inauguration, five days since the march, and I am consumed with an overwhelming sense of dread. How I feel like the Women’s March will forever be a hopeful, joyful, bright pink buoy in the treacherous sea of the next four years, how each executive order, attack on the press, alternative fact, and messy press conference is just another strong wave threatening to crash into that buoy, pushing it further and further under the water until it sinks into the deep darkness of the ocean.
“Making America Great Again”
Friends, this will be a short post. I have a longer one coming, maybe tomorrow if I'm not being too ambitious. Right now, like right now, Trump's transition team is soliciting feedback from Americans on how to "Make America Great Again". I URGE you to speak your mind here. Anyone can. But listen: be sure that your message … Continue reading “Making America Great Again”
Marie’s Crisis
And now for something good. Last night, my neighbor - who is rapidly turning into a dearly beloved friend - invited me to a cabaret in the West Village. She texted me as I was formatting my previous post. I was sitting in my pajamas, hair a mess, braless, hungry, and crabby. I debated with … Continue reading Marie’s Crisis
“Your power is a billion times his.”
Day two has come and with it, a mutual sense of purpose and urgency. Like many of you, I have experienced both enthusiasm and admonishments for expressing my feelings regarding the outcome of the election. I will not apologize for any feelings that I may have stirred up in regard to my last post. My … Continue reading “Your power is a billion times his.”
National Mourning
Today, November 9, 2016, has inarguably been one of the most difficult days I’ve ever endured. The election was decided around 2:30am – Donald Trump had won the electoral vote by a slim margin – while I was fitfully sleeping. I awoke to tearful texts from my mother, expressions of rage from my sisters, both … Continue reading National Mourning
Marie Cummings Hendry 