Posted at 3:56 am , on March 19, 2020
Au lit: le baiser, 1892. By French artist Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
Dr. Zelinsky opened her office door to find her client upside down in the middle of the room, performing a perfect headstand.
“Hey, Dr. Zee. I started yoga like you suggested. This is my favorite pose. Come join me!”
“Very nice, Brandy. But I prefer my sessions right side up.”
Brandy gracefully descended and went to lounge on the couch, chattering all the while.
“I’ve been to a class every day this week. Who knew there were so many styles? That Jivamukti is too “out there” with all the chanting, and Yin just dragged on and on. But Vinyasa is definitely my groove. Great idea. Do you do yoga?”
Posted at 4:17 am , on February 20, 2020
He lifted the binoculars, focused the lenses and could just make out her red foul weather jacket, bright against the tiny white triangle of the sail. She headed away from land, away from him, towards the horizon. The ocean was calm and the sunshine cast a path of shimmering diamonds between them, reminding him of the jewelry she left behind.
His fortune was made many times over in the dot com bubble by fortuitously cashing out and missing the crash by just a few months. He’d become an angel investor in an organization that housed and trained homeless youth, where he met her when she was barely 18. They married on her 21st birthday and he bought her everything money could buy, but the truly pleased smiles didn’t dim the haunted look in her eyes. She never talked about her past, except for the fact that her parents had died when she was very young and she bounced through the foster system, never owning more than could fit in a backpack.
Posted at 2:33 am , on February 6, 2020
Amy was early and sat stiffly on the couch. It was her first time seeing a therapist and she wondered if she should lay down.
“Hello, Amy. I’m Dr. Zelinsky.”
Amy stood, tentatively shook the offered hand, and sat back down on the edge of the cushion. The doctor eased onto an adjacent chair.
“How can I help?”
Amy took a deep breath. “I’ve never done this before. I’m usually strong but lately I can’t shake this depression.”
Posted at 4:15 am , on January 23, 2020
I took teeny bites of the protein bar as I watched the screen showing my husband’s vital signs. Different colored graphs scrolled by on a continuous roller coaster but no alarms were ringing so I figured things must be stable. His eyes were closed and his breathing was even. I folded the empty wrapper into a small square and put it in my pocket.
We’d just spent a week in Annapolis, Maryland at the longest running and biggest sailboat show in the United States. We walked miles and talked for hours to different vendors about systems and products to enhance our future lifestyle of living off the grid and circumnavigating the globe. Solar panels to create our own electricity, celestial navigation books, battery monitors, a stainless steel folding swim ladder, “marriage saver” headsets for bow to stern communication, and lots and lots of conversations with other sailors.
Posted at 4:10 am , on January 9, 2020
“Watch your step!” Wendy shouted, jerking him to the side.
“What the hell?” Ben shook his arm free from Wendy’s grasp. “Do you really think that stepping on a piece of broken cement will hurt mama?”
“I’m not taking any chances. We need all the luck we can get. And we’re already late, so get a move on.” Wendy strode ahead, eyes down to watch for sidewalk cracks, leaving Ben shaking his head and staring after her.
Posted at 3:51 am , on December 12, 2019
It had been a week of “lasts.” Her last term paper, her last shift at the coffee shop, her last Taco Tuesday at Don Jose’s. She heard the toilet flush and realized that this would be the last time Zoe would slip under the covers next to her in their bed.
Eve stared at the crack in the ceiling. It was barely visible when they’d moved in three years ago and she’d emailed the property management company. She didn’t want to be responsible for the repair when they moved out tomorrow.
“We better get our deposit back,” Eve stated as Zoe entered the room.
“Let it go, Elsa,” Zoe quipped back. “I think they’ll care less about the crack then the chalkboard paint in the kitchen.”
“They should consider that an upgrade! They also got a veggie garden out of us. It took us weeks to till that soil.”
Posted at 4:20 am , on June 27, 2019
“Two Women Running on the Beach” by Pablo Picasso
She thought that the only thing worse than waking up with a hangover was waking up with a hangover next to some guy that looked way better drunk. But this wasn’t a guy. It was a girl. And a pretty good looking one.
Shana had no clue how she got into this predicament. So she lay there and stared at the naked brunette in her bed, watching her chest rise and fall and trying to figure out what to do next.
Her bedmate’s eyes fluttered open and a slow smile crossed her face. “Heeeyyy, Girl. Got a headache? You were a hoot.”