by Claire Carey Deering
My son has a yellow plastic clock that I bought in a futile attempt to ready him for kindergarten. It has a face with big numbers and hands but no mechanism—you must use your fingers to mark the time, and once you do, you are already late. A second has passed. Now, two. A storyteller…
by Becca Lavin
Time races by
Like a child Run amok
Splashing at puddles
Wishing for luck…
I am only half listening. It’s all too fast—for what I worry is too sick a mind. But something cues me back in. The speaker, David M. Peña-Guzmán, from San Francisco State University, is talking about the phenomenology of whales, but what catches my attention is when he mentions the bends. …
I keep waiting for inspiration to write on the theme “slow.” The only things that come to mind are clichés: slowing down in a sped-up world; staying present in an era of distractions; the art of doing nothing. None of this feels fresh.
Frankly, slow is not sexy. …
The squeaky clunk of metal in rapid succession has become a routine part of my morning soundtrack. It is as if I am attempting CPR on the “Push for Signal” button, which metaphorically is not too far from the truth. I am trying to revive my morning by getting my kids to school on time…
A Sigh escapes my lips as I bend over to stack the white ceramic plates in the cabinet. He’s doing it again. His comfortable warmth sidles up next to me, the soft plaid brushing my arm, as he leans in to set the matching bowls tidily in their place. Working together, the dishwasher is emptied and reloaded, pots scrubbed and set to dry in the rack.
“Is something wrong?” …
“I know you’re busy.”
My 81-year-old friend says this to me as I’m leaving his new apartment. He doesn’t drive anymore, so we moved him into town to be closer to church and the bakery and the bank. Places he can walk. Places where everyone knows his name and he theirs. His second day in his new home, he fell in the bathtub and hit his head and cut open both his arms. It’s a few days later and I’ve just finished changing his bandages. …
Like many people wanting “more” out of life, I am often in search of the thing that will be the answer.
Recently, I’ve been finding feathers everywhere. Mostly crow feathers. The internet tells me that this a sign that I am being protected and am not alone….
I am, by nature, enormously impatient.
I always stop the microwave with two seconds left. I just cannot wait for those two beats before devouring my warmed food.
I often shoot off a text—or worse, an email—too early….
How did I watch
Her soft hands
pull his stiff body close
to dress his purple skin…