Quaintrelle

I donned a light, simple sweater and a colorful scarf. My husband, a light fleece and hiking shoes. His grandfather’s bow saw sat in the...

“The phantom-host has faded quite, splendor and terror gone. Portent or proise—and gives way to pale, meek Dawn; The coming, going, alike...

The broken bird feeder, filthy with the flour of old seeds. The light bulb, stationary, never illuminated at the unused desk. The...

I'm incredibly fortunate sitting here in my dining room, surrounded by books, drinking iced coffee even though it's cold outside, and...

P.S. --My hair doesn't feel like straw today because I spent slightly more than 5 but less than 10 minutes "caring" for it. I will never...

I know some people and don't know enough about them. They are creatives. They are good. They think and they do. They know a lot about...

The new year started and I bought myself a planner. It is green and twenty twenty three is inscribed across the rubbery-plastic cover....

Several weeks ago, out of curiosity, I went to my Facebook messenger to see if the messages between me and my late sister were still...

We don't rake our leaves so there they are, a carpet of them in their bronzes, golds, and browns, little worlds and beginnings beneath...

Don't rage at the dying of light. Don't rage at the black walnut husks blackening the walkway. Don't rage at the flakes of hornets nest...