where the writers are

time | time

rebbecca-hill's picture
Dec.10.2013
She’s reading a book, cozy in her cocoon. He comes in to the room; she looks up, half an eye still on the fictional world inside those pages. “Can we play the question game,” he asks. “Right now?” “Yeah, it’s been a while.” They had been reading a book….and in it the author set aside time for the...
sherrie-theriault's picture
Dec.01.2013
December 1     Poorly Chirping   She writes poetry like fusion jazz, more fun to make than to listen to.  She stands at the podium serving as a bad example.  I pray as she reads, “Lord, please don’t let me get sucked into the self-importance of bad poetry for the sake of...
sherrie-theriault's picture
Nov.30.2013
November 30     Precious Cargo   Do I carry myself as well as I could?  Do I understand the value of what is contained within me?  This journey matters, it requires my attention and comprehension, if only I am able.  When I fall short the road changes.  The...
steven-belanger's picture
Nov.05.2013
Photo: Cover, from the book's Wikipedia page   Another of the Nordic Noir (this one takes place in Iceland) to become very popular in the last ten years or so, following in the wake of authors like Jo Nesbo, Stieg Larsson, Henning Mankell and many more.  Not reaping the rewards of...
sherrie-theriault's picture
Nov.05.2013
November 5     MISS DIRECTED   I called and rambled at my sponsor.  After a significant time had passed, she stopped me and asked with a tone in her voice, “and why are you calling me?” Startled, I replied, “for your advice!” “Are you sure that’s why you called?  Because I...
sherrie-theriault's picture
Nov.04.2013
November 4     Bride in a Bentley   Who determines your worth, the one who sets your ransom or the one who pays it?   Will you recognize yourself once you have been bought and paid for?  Will your life exist upon your return?  How many times has the road and its...
steven-belanger's picture
Nov.01.2013
Photo: Freud's Vienna office, from forpilar.blogspot.com.   Despite being woken up more than six times by my car's alarm that inexplicably went off three times, and by my dog, who whined constantly through the night, I somehow managed to sleep deeply enough to have two very strange dreams...
michael-seidel's picture
Sep.28.2013
Time got away from me this week.  I can reconstruct what happened but I don't know how -- no, why -- time got away from me.  One minute, it was napping on my lap and everything was cool.  Then something spooked time and it was off like a cat on a mad dash.  Shouting, "Time, wait...
michael-seidel's picture
Sep.26.2013
How fast does time go?  Is it faster than a speeding bullet, traveling quicker than a blink of light?  Some days, the hours' passage seems moored in granite, unwilling and unable to move off the mark.  This week, though, I check the date and time and sit back in astonishment. ...
jodi-cutting's picture
Sep.06.2013
Over the last few weeks I have an opportunity to spend a considerable amount of one on one time with my son, Ryan.  An injury a little over a month ago required several trips to Portland together, which afforded us one on one time that I don’t typically have. When you are outnumbered by your...