She didn’t know how she was going to decide. The relationships had started due to her best friend’s push to get her on a dating website.
“C’mon, Becca. You’ve been divorced over a year. Let me create an OkCupid profile for you. That’s how I met Cliff and it turned out great for us,” Shelley begged, flashing her engagement ring once again.
Rebecca had cringed, tired of the constant attempts from her mother and friends to set her up. “Fine. Just tell the truth and don’t make me look stupid. And I swear, if I get catfished, I’ll kill you.”
The sour-faced woman raised her eyebrows after scanning my ID card. “I’m sorry, we can’t accept your vote.”
Amy stretched languidly, enjoying the morning quiet.
He considered himself immortal. He’d had plenty of broken bones and visits to the emergency room in his 33 years as a stuntman. In each of the three near-death experiences, he was drawn to a light but it always dimmed before he reached it. And then he woke to excruciating pain.
Today is my wee Nana’s 100th birthday! Agnes Parker McKittrick Hanna passed peacefully on October 25, 2017, just a few months shy of turning 99. I was so positive that she would live to be 100 that when her health began to take a sharp decline a few weeks before she died, I advocated for any and all medications and therapy to make her well. As her conservator, I had her transferred to a skilled nursing facility with a higher level of care options, stopping just short of life-resuscitation measures according to her wishes.
“Fort Awsome,” the sign read. In all actuality, it wasn’t a “fort” and “awsome” was spelled wrong. Both were mortal sins in her book and she felt no remorse in ripping the shoddily made wooden plaque off the rickety beach shelter, placing it in the garbage bag she carried. 
Charlie’s trained eyes peered through the binoculars from his vantage point at the top of the playground castle. He had a full view of the park and the turret shielded him from view of onlookers. He jotted notes in a little pad with a pencil, kept tucked in his suit pocket.
We grew up sailing San Francisco Bay, indisputably the best sailing in the world and one we generally take for granted. On a typical day on the water we’ll motor up the estuary (which we fondly refer to as the “Alameda Riviera”) raising sails just beyond the Port of Oakland. We know all the stories associated with the local landmarks such as President Roosevelt’s refurbished USS Potomac and Jack London Square, the old Navy Base and the various Coast Guard stations.
Laura stepped off the bus and headed towards home. If you could call it that. An illegally converted garage wasn’t much of a home. She shared the single bathroom with three others and had to keep her food in a cooler so it wouldn’t be stolen from the community kitchen. It was all she could afford but was far better than the house she used to live in with her alcoholic husband.
Vivo O Sonho 