Wednesday, August 24, 2016



I dug in the dirt, prepping the soil with fertilizer. As I worked, my thoughts wandered. Everything I knew about gardening was through  my grandfather’s teachings. Working by his side as a child had always been such fun. That is until as a teenager, I’d rather hang at the mall with friends than be sent to my grandparents house while my mother worked.

On one such occasion, we were planting flowers in front of the newly painted farmhouse. Grampa rambled on. I’d barely listened.

“If you paint an old house white it looks clean and fresh. And if you plant bright red flowers against the white walls, the house pops and looks new.”

I’d rolled my eyes and promptly forgot his words...until now.

Standing in front of my freshly painted white home, with the newly planted trailing red blooms and red roses, I smiled.

“I miss you, Grampa.”


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Wednesday, August 17, 2016


I've been scarce the past few weeks with my flash fiction post. Blame it on summer, family, and visitors. Now I'm back. Enjoy!


First came the sorrow, then the pain of loss, followed by the anger.

In the end, it was the depression that engulfed me.

Know that I’m surrounded by caring and loving people. But there are no words or actions to take away the emptiness within. They worried about me but they didn’t understand. He was the love of my life, father to my children, best friend, lover and soul mate.

Then one day, I saw one; soon they appeared everywhere. I picked up the soft, fluffy white feather. It would join the others in my little jewelled box. You see, he sent them, all of them—to let me know he was still around.

I looked out to sea, took in the sunlight dancing across the waves, the blueness of the sky, and heard the cry of the sea gulls.

For the first time in months, I smiled.


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