Browsing: Prose

DW McKinney Sun Tea When the dust storms dwindle and the air is thick with heat, I pull a 1-gallon jar from the cabinet beside the kitchen sink. My mother gifted me the jar, an imitation of her own,…

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Jerrice J. Baptiste The Solution Her belly grew like a basketball not filled with air but with water where a wonderful creature was protected inside a hard like shell.  She wanted a baby boy genius.  She followed her own…

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Linen Hankies by Sarah W. Bartlett Mutti, we called her. That’s the equivalent of “Mom” in German.  A title we picked up from our six-month sabbatical in Munich, 1957.  The name, having acquired her personality, became my own children’s way…

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An Imperfect Mother by Joan Leotta One of my early memories is marveling over a statue of Mary, the Mother of Jesus in the corner of my first-grade classroom. The nuns said Mary was the perfect Mother. I learned…

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Point-Counterpoint by Linda Murphy Marshall Flip sides of the same coin. Yin and yang. Point, counterpoint. Sisters. Besides their diminutive frames, their oversized intellects, having mothered four children each, they had little in common. Picture my mother. Movie star…

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May Day by Heather Haldeman “Hurray! Hurray! It’s the 1st of May. Outdoor sex starts today!” “Mom!” “I know,” she laughed. “You wanted the mother with the bun in the back, the Peter Pan collar and the cross around…

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Martina Green McGowan Crafting Beyond the Half-Century Mark Time and Age Time and age come with a certain sense of freedom.  Freedom of thought, more risk-taking, a different perspective gained from a long view of life, its attendant…

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