Celestial Immorality

Kindred souls believe they have been born of the same womb, separated at birth, but perhaps attached for life. This kind of connection was at the heart of the friendship between Callie, Pete, and Harry. The teenagers trusted the notion of immortal flesh and blood as they challenged and depended on each other. Their bond would be eternal, or so they had convinced themselves until the accident a year ago last summer.

Now in mid-August, they embarked on the last of their twelve labors. Their Hercules-inspired tasks had propelled them through 1969 and their senior year in high school. They had chosen one challenge for each month beginning last September. In two weeks, they would disperse to colleges that had selected them based on legacy status and not on their academic merit. For now though, they were all in the school of carpe diem.

Published in Skyline 2017: Prose and Poetry by Central Virginia Writers  (Cyberworld Publishing)

Herbal Tea is not Always the Cure

Awarded 2nd place by The Writer’s Workshop of Asheville in their 2015 Hard Times essay contest.

Excerpt:

As a mother, I thought my daughter just needed a good dose of calamine lotion and her favorite remedy of hot herbal tea with lemon and honey. I transformed into my mother mode and rushed to Richmond to bring her back to home to Charlottesville.

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Tantilla

Tantilla Gardens graced the capital city of Richmond for more than three decades. During this life, she was the epitome of Southern gentility, garbed in burgundy swags, velvet drapes, and brass sconces. Her lighted marquee rose like a jeweled tiara on the queen of the night. She was hostess to America’s most famous orchestras and bands whose melodious notes drifted out through her floor-to-ceiling balconies to the streets below. And in a most remarkable fashion, Tantilla rolled back her roof for romance and dancing under the glittering stars.

Published in The Blue Ridge Anthology 2013
Poetry & Prose by Central Virginia Writers(Cedar Creek Publishing)

1st Place Nonfiction, Blue Ridge Writing Chapter, Virginia Writers Club

2nd Place Nonfiction, Virginia Writers Club, 2012 Golden Nib Contest

Lucky

Lucky had nine lives. I first witnessed this phenomenon when Hurricane Sandy rolled over the Outer Banks. I was tying up my fishing boat to the dock on the sound side. The elements (barometric pressure, wind direction, etc.) meshed together into what everyone was calling the perfect storm. Thunder bellowed and lightning sizzled.

Published in Skyline 2015: Prose and Poetry by Central Virginia Authors (Cyberworld Publishing)

Virginia Writers Club, Summer Shorts 2014 Contest, Honorable Mention Fiction

The Storm

Mary Margaret: 1935

The memories of the summer I turned thirteen live vividly in frightening dreams that wake me in the night. The summer of 1935 our servant Frederick disappeared in a torrential storm that pulsed across the mile-wide expanse of the Rappahannock River.

After that day my mother drifted into dark moods of soul-draining depression, rambling monologues, and abrupt departures from the house for hours. Our housemaid and cook, Hattie, tried her best to make our routines normal, but the loss of Frederick formed a cloud of secrets that Hattie carried in her heart. While my two younger brothers maintained their boyhood innocence, I tossed aside the charades of my childhood.

Published Skyline 2014: Prose and Poetry by Central Virginia Authors (Cyberworld Publishing)

Nana’s Arm

Ever since Nana was a girl of eight, she had one arm. When our family of six drove to Warm Springs, Virginia, every summer, Daddy would point his arm out the window of our Oldsmobile and say, “There’s where your Grandma’s arm is buried.”

Published in Skyline 2015: Prose and Poetry by Central Virginia Authors (Cyberworld Publishing)

Virginia Writers Club, Summer Shorts 2014 contest, 2nd place Nonfiction

In My Shoes essay

The brackish Rappahannock River flows tranquil and swift in contrast to my slowly swirling feelings. Emotions clamor like the young osprey in the nest that is their summer home on the nearby boathouse. Here at the riverside wedding of my nephew, the day is bittersweet for me.

Richmond Times Dispatch, Sunday, August 4, 2013
See link for full article:
http://www.timesdispatch.com/entertainment-life/columnists-blogs/in-my-shoes/in-my-shoes-weddings-signify-new-beginnings/article_131294c1-f708-52c9-ab11-91cd5bd21055.html

Taking the Waters

My father often told a story about how he and his two brothers, when youngsters in the 1920s, would sneak into the Warm Springs women’s bathhouse in the middle of the night. The circular building had an opening low on one side where the water flowed from the spring-fed pool into the stream. The excursion must have been much like swimming into a water-filled, dark cave.

2nd Place Nonfiction, Virginia Writers Club, Summer Shorts Writing Contest 2013
Published in Skyline 2014 Anthology

SHATTERED

One week ago, my 23-year-old daughter feared making a phone call. Two weeks ago, she was frightened to leave her apartment. Three weeks ago, she was afraid to ride in a car. One month ago, I watched the balance, harmony, and symmetry of her life shatter.Perhaps there were early warnings, that as a mother, I should have recognized. Her pain was my pain. 2nd Place Nonfiction, Blue Ridge Writing Chapter, Virginia Writers Club Published in The Blue Ridge Anthology 2013 Poetry & Prose by Central Virginia Writers (Cedar Creek Publishing)