Cody

The squirrels are going to lose today. There’s one now – on the top of the fence by the tree. I’m on it, ferocious, mustache quivering. They are relentless, small and grey. So am I. Another pops up on the opposite wall. Here I go! I don’t even have to bark. They see me and…

The Cake

She turned the envelope over in her hands. She had waited so long for this letter, but now she wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to open it. There wasn’t much of a letter but to Katie’s delight the recipe was stapled to it — creased, slightly greasy, but written out in a clear,…

Zoes: A Fable

Part One: The Adoption Just before Hannah’s 25th birthday, I got the wild idea to get her a cat as a gift. Was it my idea? We’ll never know. Our good friend Silvia lives in Ashland, and this is where we were visiting for the birthday weekend. I also figured this would be a fine…

NaNoWriteMore (Vocab Lesson)

November howls with word storms. Across the world, people are writing novels. In my little house, I only appear to be alone. Courtesan: Upstairs, pint-sized, in furred boots, she entertains invisible guests. Her tongue and jaws make tiny, busy noises. Harmonize: In the kitchen, silhouetted musicians banter in a yellow light, following along with the…

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Chapter 22: Wal-Mart

I’ve always been a journal-er. Of course, when life gets really interesting, I have tended to drop the practice (although I’m proud to say I’ve been doing daily writing now for almost a year, for the first time in my life). Digging through old journals, I have gone down a number of rabbit-holes, not all…

Tuula's shadow on a barn

Travel Oregon Photo Story

Hey readers, remember when I rode my bike across the state of Oregon to watch the eclipse this summer? I put together a little photo story for the Travel Oregon blog, and it’s now live! Like many lifelong Oregonians, I know as much about the region of the state east of the I-5 corridor as…

Forty-Five Minutes in Venice Beach

A large man wearing a black t-shirt that reads in block white lettering:  “I’m here to fuck shit up and leave” lounges on a cement bench. It wraps around the base of a palm tree guarding a mound of grass the size of a suburban front lawn. This is hot for October. The city sweats…