There are mountains here, but you can’t see them. “Is that all smoke?” I asked as I climbed into the black Ford Explorer in front of me in real life after summoning its avatar form in Uber. The sky was heavy and sick-looking. Kevin’s face was kind and young and apologetic. His flecked sandy hair […]
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Whooping Cranes (Prose)
I’m sitting at the table at my parents’ house in northern Illinois this morning. The back door is open, allowing nature sounds to creep in. The distant hum of katydids and cicadas; the occasional frog or songbird; the drone of a plane every once in a while. If anyone has ever experienced a whooping crane, […]
Continue readingA Moment in a Belfast Kitchen (Prose)
This is not what I should be writing. I should be writing the second paragraph for an article about data in healthcare I’ve been distractedly languishing over longer than I should have. Productivity has had a sputtering start this morning. But I’m sitting in a beautiful kitchen with stock on the stove making the whole […]
Continue readingWalking to a Coffee Shop During Morning School Rush in Belfast (Prose)
Some walks in Belfast are hurried; set-browed; mustered. You’re late, or couldn’t figure out the transportation system, or, most commonly, it’s “lashing rain.” This morning though was bright and misty; you saw your breath but saw the sun peaking through as well. And most catalyzingly, the place was alive with people. Traffic bustled by, moving […]
Continue readingWind On a House (Prose)
(Written during a storm the night of 12/15/21) Tonight, this house is a vessel. The storm was frisky but harmless this morning. It didn’t relent, though. It wouldn’t be chased away. By the afternoon it was larger, beefier, with more tattoos and snide comments that became dark and threatening. And now, the sun is long […]
Continue readingQuiet Scenes (Prose)
(Inspired by another brother this time, who also writes a fantastic blog. I know… We’re a lot. Don’t be jealous.) Watching leaves socialize out the back door is a bit like seeing a party take place in a silent movie or from too far away to hear their merry chatter. The sun watches them too […]
Continue readingDream Makers, Part Two (Prose)
(Continued from Part One) Ciaran, his eyes probing the cave’s mouth that faded almost immediately to black, became aware of his heart protesting more forcefully as his feet carried him, in slower steps now, past the last few structures toward the sizable entrance. Even though the rain and dust had melded into a thick fog, […]
Continue readingDream Makers, Part One (Prose)
It was this day that Ciaran could no longer resist the delicious mystery. No other reason than that his earnings this morning had been particularly poor on his street corner, or that an altercation with one of the bigger street boys had left him stripped of almost all the change he had garnered anyway, exchanged […]
Continue readingOrchard in Gray (Prose)
It’s amazing how a different backdrop over a familiar setting can so drastically change its feel. My Dad and I are driving from Illinois to Texas today on a dual-mission roadtrip. On the way, we stopped at an apple orchard outside St. Louis to buy apple cider donuts for the friends we’ll be visiting. It […]
Continue readingCurrent State (Prose)
Sirens outside; eyes wet-rimmed; tasting silence. It lays heavy; pushes in against my eardrums. Read back over what’s been newly typed. Add some more. Stare into the distance. Bed calling; I don’t answer yet. I pretend I’m not here. Not sure what to expect. Heart wary. -LS
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