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Dallas Woodburn on Christmas gifts for charity

December 12th, 2014 at 05:03pm

D uring the holiday season, it sometimes seems like the whole world is wrapped up in presents and material possessions. Kids are writing their wish lists to Santa, adults are trying to find the “perfect gift” for their special someone, and mall parking lots are jam-packed with eager shoppers. I had always been just as guilty as the next person of harboring this fraudulent yuletide spirit, until a few years ago when I learned what the holiday season is truly about.

Christmas was coming.
Who'd be Santa Claus had suddenly gotten sticky.

Sam Nicholas was fifty if a day, and could be lied to by adults and kids alike.

Toby's light flashed on. He pushed up his window. "What is it, Sam? You ready?"
Tom Sheehan

December 5th, 2014 at 12:26am

Sam Nicholas

Holiday fiction by

Tom Sheehan

December 3rd, 2014 at 01:57pm

Rev. Ed Bird

Home For Christmas: When “Not Going” Is Healthier Than “Going.”

November 2nd, 2014 at 05:35pm

Sometimes You Just Got to Believe

Tricia’s Blog

Whether you await a Child or you long for Peace on Earth, or you strive to see goodness in the abyss of heartbreaking news, it takes attention and intention to turn away from the darkness and embrace the light.

November 1st, 2014 at 09:55pm

Janitor at the Y

Short poem by

Danny P. Barbare

October 18th, 2014 at 04:10pm

Time Snapshots

Tricia’s Blog

I cannot stop time, or deadlines, or the pressures of my chosen profession. My only choice is to become more mindful.

October 15th, 2014 at 08:51am

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September 15th, 2014 at 12:00am

The Humpty Dumpty Wall

Tom Sheehan

Original Fiction

September 15th, 2014 at 12:00am

My Perfectly Decorated Apartment

Dallas Woodburn

Essay

September 11th, 2014 at 12:00am

The Roar of the Elephant

Fiction by

Linda Breeden

L ife happens and then it just stops. The “happens” part, with all the starts and pauses, joys and disappointments, make up modern family life. My family consisted of my parents, my son and his wife, and my precocious granddaughter. The modern label is the “club-sandwich” generation; here, in the South, we just call it family. Life, too, is full of obvious truths that in any family are either ignored or unaddressed. It’s called “the elephant in the room.”

There was something in the driveway; a little lump of dark feathers and it wasn’t moving.

His mother didn’t want him in her basement at age 35, watching Cartoon Network and eating microwave nachos.

Ziggy looked around at this big wide world, and he just walked away. I let him go.
Patricia Crisafulli

August 16th, 2014 at 10:21pm

Fiction by

Tom Sheehan

March 16th, 2014 at 12:00am

To the Mountaintop and Back

Fiction by

Janice Colvin

January 11th, 2014 at 12:00am

The Sounds of Snow

I made a deliberate attempt to listen past my own noise, to discern each sound of snow.

Essay by

Patricia Crisafulli

“We’re not rushing,” Ian said. “We know we’re right for each other."

“It’s too soon!” Georgia whispered to Bob, grateful that he nodded.

They pulled and the bone shattered, the top part landing in the sink,

January 11th, 2014 at 12:00am

Patricia Crisafulli, Founder & Editor

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