Category Archives: Writing

The Playhouse: An Update

One week later, the playhouse still sits on the side of the road, forlorn and forgotten.

Cars rush by, too busy to see its sorrow as it awaits its fate. Will it sit on the side of the road forever, until the plastic turns brittle and crumbles under the oppressive summer sun? Will someone eventually take it home, try to put the pieces back together, show it the love it hoped for in the first place? Will it find its way into the nearby woods, destined to become a home for raccoons?

Only time will tell.


The Playhouse

It seems that often people don’t notice the same things I do. Sometimes I think I’m a little too observant for my own good. But this week, I noticed something that I don’t think anyone could miss.

On the way into town one evening, we noticed a plastic playhouse. A molded plastic cube that seemed relatively new and in good shape. It sat in the weedy median, on its side and lonely. Its only companions were a red sedan and a puzzled blonde woman.

My husband and I immediately began speculating. How had the playhouse ended up in the median? Had it fallen off of a truck? Had someone left it behind? And, more curious, who was the woman and what did she intend to do with the playhouse? There was no way she could fit it into her tiny car or secure it onto the roof.

We went about our evening, not thinking much about the mystery. But when we returned, the story had taken a new turn.

Even in the darkness, it was easy to see that the red sedan and blonde woman were gone, but the playhouse was still on the side of the road. Now, though, it sat on the other side of the road in pieces. I don’t know what happened to it, but it met a tragic end.

Alas, the playhouse didn’t stand a chance, especially if the woman did indeed try to bring it home on her car.


Sunset (A Poem)

Sunset

The sun leans down
to kiss the horizon
before turning off
the lights.


Graduation (A Poem)

I remember
when you were young,
sixth grade, awkward hair,
trying to find yourself.
You were the class clown,
teacher’s pet, quiet one,
queen bee, reflective writer.
I loved teaching you.
Years passed, you grew up,
but you never stopped
smiling at me in the halls,
taking classes just because
I taught them, talking about
the days when you were young.
But now you are grown up
ready to leave these halls,
and I am left feeling old
and wondering if I’ll see you again.
You toss your hat, leave the stage,
leave a special place in my heart.


A-Z Challenge: Complete (and May the 4th Be with You!)

This year’s A-Z challenge was a different experience, but I liked it. Sometimes in the whirlwind of lesson plans, grades, and housework, it’s easy to forget about spending some time every day (or at least a every few days) to do something creative. This put the pressure on to make it happen, and I feel some fresh inspiration.

Speaking of creativity, tomorrow is Intergalactic Star Wars Day!

It’s always one of my favorite days of the year, but it’s especially fun this year. Not only do I get to traipse around school wearing an homage to Star Wars (after all, there is still a dress code), but some friends found a Star Wars themed paint night. A picture of that will be up Monday!

So now, back to our regular posting schedule and more creative things — painting, poetry, stories, and otherwise — to come!

And May the fourth be with you… always.

How did your A-Z Challenge go? And are you celebrating May the 4th?


A-Z Challenge: Zebra

(Okay, so it’s getting published a day late, but hey, better late than never.)

There is a picture of a zebra
in my parents’ guest bathroom
taken when my brother visited
Namibia. Though it was afar,
it stared straight into the camera;
its gaze still pierces in black and white.
The first time I saw it, I admired
its incredible beauty but soon felt
awkward as it stared at me–piercingly–
by the toilet, at the sink, as I hurried
beneath its high shelf back to the door.
I must not be the only one
surprised by its gaze. A gazelle
has taken its place
and now stares at the zebra
hanging on a discrete wall by the door.


A-Z Challenge: Yclept

(A continuation of A-Z Challenge: Worn.)

It hadn’t taken long for her eyes to adjust to the constant darkness of the Wilds, but her heart raced just as fast as when she first stepped foot into the forest.

Everyone knew the stories about this place. Here, wild monsters lurk behind every shadow and time itself bleeds away. She had always hoped that they were just myths, but the crunch of nearby footsteps and uncertainty of the hour confirmed that it must be true.

She gathered all of her courage and pressed on, sword clenched tightly in her hand. She had to. She was her people’s last hope.

There were footsteps to her left, louder than any she had heard yet. She stopped and peered into the darkness. At first, she couldn’t see anything. Then, between the silhouette of trees, she made out a light. A torch was headed her way.

She gripped the hilt firmly with both hands now. Her mind raced. The torch and its bearer were getting closer now. Clearly, her presence was already known. There was no point in running, and even if she did, losing the path would mean the end of the quest and likely her own life.

Finally, the person stood within clear view, for a person indeed it was. The light bothered her eyes more than she expected, but she could plainly make out the man donning hunting gear.

“Who are you?” she asked, tightening her grip with her sweaty hands.

“Sorry, miss,” he replied with a bow. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m a hunter yclept Theron. Who are you?”