The rain at first came in fits and starts, a few small droplets plunking against the plate glass window. As she was in no particular hurry to leave, Lucy sat in the booth and watched them; she liked how they stretched out long as soon as they hit the glass, but then ran out of … Continue reading Morning Miniature 5.17.19
Writing
Morning Miniature 5.14.19
So engrossed was she, scrolling through page after page of the squiggly little glass makers’ marks, that Lucy at first missed the phone lighting up at her elbow; she caught it just before it vibrated itself right off the table. The name ‘Susanna’ glowed on the little glass screen, positioned above a positively radiant photo … Continue reading Morning Miniature 5.14.19
Morning Miniature 5.9.19
Claudia peered anxiously out of the east-facing casement windows of her little house, looking for any signs of Cecil; she had only just pulled the glass panels closed against the wind and fastened them tight. The storm had blown in quickly and now whipped the rain around crazily, one direction and then the other; she … Continue reading Morning Miniature 5.9.19
Morning Miniature 5.3.19
Lucy was determined to thin out the daffodils, or weed them, or whatever one does to two solid acres of ancient bulbs suffering from years or even decades of neglect, but it was still too soon for her to fully realize the scope of this project, an epiphany that might have dissuaded her from starting … Continue reading Morning Miniature 5.3.19
Morning Miniature 4.30.19
Lucy was glad nobody had been around to see her struggle to heft a reluctant 60-pound shepherdish mix into Bran’s enormous claw-footed bathtub. The dog was smelly, itchy, and filthy, and there was no way Lucy could tolerate her inside the house, sweet as her disposition seemed, until they got this business over with. Armed … Continue reading Morning Miniature 4.30.19
Morning Miniature 4.26.19
Animal Control was only a hair’s breadth from the county line. The squat cinderblock building lay in the shadow of a wooded ridge that blocked most of what should have been exquisite early morning sunlight; on the other side of the ridge was one of the worst neighborhoods in the area, now awash in that … Continue reading Morning Miniature 4.26.19
Morning Miniature 4.24.19
“It’s about damn time—thought you’d never call.” Susanna’s voice came through in fits and starts from the other end of a sketchy cell connection. “I can barely hear you….” Lucy held the phone to her left ear and pressed her other index finger hard into her right ear, straining to hear her friend over the … Continue reading Morning Miniature 4.24.19
Morning Miniature 4.19.19
Were you to wander through a particular grand neighborhood in Knoxville, Tennessee, you might stop and stare in bewildered awe at the specimen trees there, old-growth trees. And in springtime the bounty of flowering trees would not escape you, the area’s signature pink and white dogwoods to be sure, but so many others festooned in … Continue reading Morning Miniature 4.19.19
Morning Miniature 4.16.19
Lucy woke from a deep sleep, disoriented but aware of light glancing off the walls around her, as if a person outside were trying to get a better look inside the cottage—could it be a flashlight? She lay still and silent, but her heart’s pounding was deafening. She chided herself for not yet having a … Continue reading Morning Miniature 4.16.19
Impostor Story: When Self-Doubt Comes Calling
"Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" —The Wizard of Oz More than once somebody I hold in high esteem has openly conceded self-doubt. I don’t know why this should come as a surprise: smart, accomplished people are human, after all. One memorable occasion stands out. Near the end of my undergraduate studies … Continue reading Impostor Story: When Self-Doubt Comes Calling
Sycamore Stories 