Whims of Writing

It was a hot, humid day in the middle of August near the Texas border town of Brownsville. Sweat was pouring down the brow of Valaria's face as she moved some limbs off her driveway into her yard. They had fallen during the night from an old oak tree. She was late for school, but the branches had barely missed her car from behind. A few neighbors looked over at her, nodding and going along their way. There were plenty of stares but no help to aid her. She was used to that. It's hot, and life in this town moves rather slowly except for her. She was a go-getter with big ambitions and dreams of leaving this place for the big city. She had already planned out her life, as far as her work was concerned. She was working hard to make her dream a reality. She planned to transfer to Austin to finish her degree at the University of Texas. First, she needed to finish all of her credits and be accepted into her program of study. She wasn't worried about it too much since she had the to...

The twilight was illuminating in the distance while I faced west toward the water. It had a subtle glow with red streaks across the sky that slowly moved down into the horizon. I balanced myself on the large rock that stood in the center of a small pool of water. The tiny canals that circled the rock were dug earlier in the day by a group of kids. It was a beautiful night, one to remember. Today was also the first anniversary of my best friend passing from this life to the next. I was here at the beach remembering her life and our life as best friends forever (BFF). We were two inseparable twins from different parents who thought we would both grow old together while celebrating all the marriage milestones to our future spouses, children, birthday parties, and everything in between. I was here to celebrate her and toast to her memory. I sat down on the rock, reached into my shoulder bag, and pulled out a large bottle of red wine. It was her favorite. We would come to this beach a l...

Photo credit: Carol Eliassen It was a sunny day as usual in Pismo Beach, California, when I decided to go swimming after walking the long white sandy beach. The waves were coming in slowly, along with a light breeze. I had picked a perfect day to hang out at the beach, take in the sights and fresh saltwater ocean air. While walking along the shoreline, I literally stumbled upon Emma. She was a local college student from San Francisco and was just on a day trip to the beach. She had driven down with friends, but they had insisted on shopping, and all she wanted to do was enjoy being lazy on the beach as she worked on her tan. I had just dined at a local bar and grill across the street that had a great view of the water. The shrimp, cod, and crab were the best I had ever eaten, but the drinks made me a little wobbly while trying to navigate the deep white sand. When I stumbled upon Emma, which I did, we hit it off after I kept apologizing profusely. I wasn’t known for college life. I was...

  Chocolate Death Cake George…just George. What a George he was. He never knew a cake he didn’t like or cookie, for that matter. I knew George well. He was quite a tall, lanky, handsome fellow who loved to bake. Growing up and looking at him, I always thought that he would be a perfect mortician because he looked like Mr. Fletcher, the local one in town. Thin and bony he was too. Aren’t all morticians tall and spindly? Well, I thought they were. I shouldn’t have stereotyped him at all because he became a Baker! Well, I won’t tell you how I envisioned all Bakers. That will be my little secret. Again, I was wrong, thanks to George. Let’s get back to George the Baker. He was a friend of the family, and most called him Uncle George, except for me. I knew he wasn’t my uncle, and since we were so close in age, I never called him that. Everyone thought that was odd, but I just liked calling him by his name. I loved that name and even named my firstborn son George. It was not because Georg...

 Finding the Missing Link My Mother's Locket Mila ran to the pond facing her house and started to dig in the mud. It was wet, gooey, and had algae growing throughout the watery muck. Yet with her bare hands, no gloves on, she managed to dig a hole about 3 feet down and less than 1 foot across. It had to be here. She was sure of it. Today was September 13, 2027, and the year before, 2026, had been brutal. It was more difficult than she ever remembered in her life. She compared it to her mother's stories of the 2020 covid 19 pandemic, but this was no comparison. Shortly after the pandemic in 2023, the New World Order had taken over every country. World War III was raging within three years. The aftermath had left everything in shambles, her life, her family, friends, pets, mostly all gone. She stayed in her bed for about six months crying on and off. Her beautiful mother perished near the pond at their house that now laid in waste and muck. She was there one minute, then gone th...

 Envision Your Creation with the Right Tools! Beanie Caps & Tools Who doesn’t love to create? We are born into a world with so many infinite things to do. Take, for example, my favorite hobby, which is looming. The yarn I use is first made synthetically or naturally with the wool of an animal. It is then spun into yarn by hand or by a machine. I then buy the yarn sold at a hobby shop or from a local spinner. What seems like magic turns a string into either a beanie cap or an enormously warm scarf. A very simple strand of yarn becomes clothing. It always amazes me how I helped it morph into something useful. What tools I use are just as necessary as the yarn I loom. I have my favorite loom, hook, needle, and last but never least, my scissors. When I need to cut the string, there is no other way to do it than to have the best scissors to use. Why, you might ask? The yarn is not easy to break at all, and it needs a clean, crisp cut to make sure I can thread my needle easily for ...