Yellow Butterfly
Yellow Butterfly From the third-floor French doors I watch a pair of yellow butterflies chase each other around a summer breeze and think to myself, one of them could be…
#hertoo “I Got Myself Raped”
I know I was at fault. I shouldn’t have left my friends. I should have made sure they were safe. There’s no excuse for being young and dumb and naïve. The memory of what happened to Rose, of losing her friendship, doesn’t seem like punishment enough for what I did. Which is probably why I buried the memory as long as I did.
Family Therapy in The House of Dust, Part Eight, The Rest of the Trip
The drive is uneventful otherwise. We talk some but mostly we listen to Steve’s CD’s. He has them in a metal case and he’s very good about changing them. He…
Family Therapy in The House of Dust, Part Three
Mom launches into a reminiscence about her own parents. Her mother had to get up every morning and make biscuits from scratch on an old wood cook stove. My…
Addiction to The Forbidden Bean
What if you had an addiction to a substance for which there was no rehab? What if you couldn’t tell anyone about your addiction? In Tee Rutledge I may have…
Drinking Alone
You'd think I'd be used to it by now. If you follow me anywhere, Twitter, Facebook, etc., you are already aware of my white zin addiction. It's sad but true. The…