Entries Tagged as 'JustWrite'

Monday, July 21st, 2014

Children On A Beach

“And then, thought Clarissa Dalloway, what a morning – fresh as if issued to children on a beach.” –Mrs. Dalloway He lost his shovel. It was bright blue, plastic, purchased at a hardware store on the way to the beach for the sole purpose of digging in that sand on that day. He discovered quickly […]

Monday, June 30th, 2014

Even The Places

“So that to know her, or any one, one must seek out the people who completed them; even the places.” —Mrs. Dalloway We packed up and left. Uprooted ourselves for a month. Said adieu to routine and predictability, the comforts of home. More than once, we’ve wondered if this was the smartest choice. We drove […]

Tuesday, June 17th, 2014

The Sky Is Blue

“…wrapped in the soft mesh of grey-blue morning air…” –Mrs. Dalloway The patter of small feet down the hall and then to my bedside each morning is always followed by an announcement. “The sky is blue,” he says most mornings. Other days it’s “The sky is blue and grey.” Yesterday it was “The sky is […]

Tuesday, May 20th, 2014

Age

“She felt very young; at the same time unspeakably aged.” –Mrs. Dalloway Tomorrow’s my birthday. Tomorrow I will officially be closer to 40 than I am to 30. I will be that much further away from college applications and living in my first apartment, getting my first real job. That much further from grad school […]

Tuesday, May 6th, 2014

Phases, Layers

“She’s grown older, she thought, sitting down…” –Mrs. Dalloway Her second round of school pictures came home today. We hadn’t known it was picture day again, hadn’t paid attention to the notices and reminders. So she went to school in just her usual clothes, with her usual half-brushed hair. She was just dressed as herself, […]

Monday, April 21st, 2014

That Is To Be Three

“”And that is being young…To be having an awful scene-the poor girl looked absolutely desperate.” –Mrs. Dalloway He wore his shorts backwards to school today, the drawstring hanging at his back like a tail. He put his pants on all by himself and since it wasn’t a battle, I let him continue on his day […]

Tuesday, April 15th, 2014

Having Cared

“Which perhaps was the reward of having cared for people; they came back in the middle of St. James Park on a fine morning – indeed they did.” –Mrs. Dalloway¬† I haven’t written in over a week. It’s hard to start again. My time last week was spent elsewhere. And then my thoughts and heart […]

Tuesday, March 18th, 2014

Overbalance

“So on a summer’s day waves collect, overblance, and fall; collect and fall; and the whole world seems to besaying “that is all” more and more ponderously…” –Mrs. Dalloway He’s not tired. He keeps running out of his room, fast feet padding along the carpet. “I have to use the potty,” he says. I think […]

Tuesday, March 11th, 2014

Like A Mist Between People

“…She being part, she was positive, of the trees at home; of the house there, ugly, rambling all to bits and pieces as it was; part of people she had never met; being laid out like a mist between the people she knew best, who lifted her on their branches as she had seen the […]

Tuesday, March 4th, 2014

Corners

“…he had found life like an unknown garden, full of turns and corners, surprising, yes; really, it took one’s breath away, these moments…” — Mrs. Dalloway He’s over in the corner of the yard, beyond where I can hear his running narrative. He talks to himself a lot these days, narrates the magical life he […]

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