Stone Sangria

You. Consider this. Sangria and Stone. Blood and Marble. Dramatic contrast. The creation of a free spirit? Not really. Speculation is rife. In love? Hmmmm. Committed? Who?  Not really. Wedded? This one? Really? Remained unwed? Really! Rendered unsuitable. Now. Officially. Smiles a lot? What’s cooking? Enthusiastic?  Must be on steroids. Thoughtful? Maybe suicidal. Rubs palms …

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Amma’s Congee

An iron fence separated the park from the lakeside where a few villagers set up their makeshift tents. Living by the lake assured them a new life, the luxuries of, cooking, cleaning and maybe even bathing, when the guard looked the other way. Amma, eighty years old, ever-present, self-appointed mother of the lot worked around …

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Common Ground

A cramped space this. I need to stretch, feel the earth under my feet. A little less talk and a little more quiet. Thriving in closed spaces, you’ve mastered the art of contorting yourself, being stashed away. The air is mine own. My mind lifts off- a sailboat in flight, the air my water, the …

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