The dog glares back at Roger, his eyes on fire, but he doesn’t let her go.
There was no sense in brushing off or any other civilized thing.
We take our solace, in a time of malaise and mourning, in the close-at-hand.
The tree was shaggy and it bore scars of shrapnel from the war.
Desperately, children: I am in desperate need for desperate need.
I had the tongue of an adder and my heart was black with rage and hate.
Their mother was the real beauty of the family, or so everyone said.
The girl marched directly up to me, glaring, and said, “You hit my dog.”
I have given everything at the wrong time, to the wrong people.
Follow your dog, and you might just live to write for another day.
Find a hair in the rose bush, wrap it around a thorn until that thorn is soft.
She says, It’s so difficult to find a good guy. My lips form a half smile.
This book club has rules, Carolyn. Everyone HAS to read the book!
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