Tag: Carrot Ranch

Lila

“You never loved me?” It was more realization than question. “You’re nothin’,” Lila spat through her cigarette smoke. “Like your father,” she muttered and took another drag, her too-red lipstick leaving its stain on the butt. He hated her. Hated her cheap clothes and frowsy hair, her bra straps sticking out of blouses forever unbuttoned and…

By Lisa December 19, 2017 Off

Curtain Call

Breathe in. Breathe out. Visualize. See yourself in front of the room, comfortable, confident, smiling as you go through the motions… “Rubbish,” she muttered. It never works. You can’t deliver a convincing portrayal when your heart isn’t in it. Not really. The words you say are just a script to fool the world into thinking that…

By Lisa December 12, 2017 Off

The Red Chair

Rob’s heart beat faster as he parked his pickup and climbed the steps to the porch. The little red chair sitting in the corner couldn’t be the same one he lost years ago, but he had to ask. It had been his dad’s chair first, then his. Rob couldn’t remember if it was lost by…

By Lisa November 7, 2017 Off

How Does Your Garden Grow?

“George, your yard and gardens are holding up so much better than anyone else’s on the street during this heat wave,” said Sam, pausing his morning walk to wipe the sweat from his neck. “Yeah, Betty’s taken to spending a lot more time out here since several of her friends have passed lately,” said George…

By Lisa November 2, 2017 Off

Anticipating Harvest

Where did he go, she wondered, when he left her? His retreat was much more than physical absence. No, this separation ran deeper. He left not only her, but himself and the world as well. While he remained in that suspended state, efforts to harvest even the slightest sprout of affection from him proved fruitless;…

By Lisa September 26, 2017 Off

Riptide

Sometimes when I stand on the rocks, the water is gentle. The sun throws splashes of daylight stars to tickle my feet. Other days, the water is playful. The breeze laughs, blows bubbles around my ankles and knees, pretending these small waves can topple me. On darker days, the water churns by swiftly, and it…

By Lisa September 19, 2017 Off

In the Morning Light

Looking at Paris in this light, Jean-Luc mourned the passing of time. He sat easily on the park bench with one arm draped over the back and pulled a slow, hard drag from his cigarette. The slightest whisper of morning rose behind the trees and bathed the park in elegant rose-gold dew. As the hour…

By Lisa June 20, 2017 Off

A Familiar Content

It is almost time. Steam rises in front of me, blurring my vision slightly. I inhale deeply, taking in all that I can by breath. A gentle heat kisses my cheek, turning my skin warm and moist. Bright flashes of orange and green swim before my eyes, darting impishly in and out of bouncy cream-colored curls. Metal brushes…

By Lisa June 6, 2017 Off

On Wisdom

“Am I wise?” I asked the Sky. Can you balance dark and light? Hold within you the vast potential of the future? “Am I wise?” I asked the Sea. Can you wash away just enough of the past to refresh yet leave a lasting impression? “Am I wise?” I asked the Earth. Can you take…

By Lisa May 23, 2017 Off

The Perfect Thing

“I would give just about anything for a cheeseburger right now,” I said, thinking of that perfect state of meltiness achieved by marrying hot, juicy beef to cool, creamy cheese. I drove on, debating whether pulling into the drive-thru was wise. After a moment, a small voice chirped from the back seat of the car.…

By Lisa May 16, 2017 Off