“Grave digger — when you dig my grave, could you make it shallow so that I can feel the rain?” – Dave Matthews Death is a topic that most people would like to avoid at all costs, whether it is the death of a friend, a loved one, a family member, or themselves. I will … Continue reading Death and All His Friends
This city has always held a fascination for me, a kind of pull that comes from being the place of my birth.
Indeed, I recall the day of my nephew’s introduction to this world in vivid detail. It was raining, and I was surprised my sister let me into the room. And I remember my graduation day like it was yesterday, when I was almost late because I had to take the bus in my graduation gown.
And I think back on Friday nights hanging out on South Street with Anthony and Ken, two other inquisitive souls who will always share with me those nights spent wandering. It is all still so clear to me, although it has been fifteen years since I’ve lived here. Continue reading “Memories From Home”
The young man sat in the corner of the bar, drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon, with a frown on his pockmarked face, at one thirty-five of a Thursday afternoon. He had been sitting there for well over an hour, nursing the one bottle. In fact, that bottle still contained two-thirds of the thick liquid. He hated … Continue reading A Morose Vignette
I wore a yarmulke once, but it wasn’t mine. It belonged to a Jewish temple somewhere on the outskirts of Philadelphia. I arrived there on a trolley that had seen better days, but it was just my method of transportation. I was dressed to the nines in full black suit with vertical stripes, the consummate … Continue reading That Time I Wore a Yarmulke
I’m a people watcher. I always have been, since I was yoing and I would give my mother fits when we went out in public. Because not only did I watch people back then, but I also gave them names and loudly called them by their “names.” Before you think that I took pleasure in … Continue reading The Watcher
The street was longer than most, I always thought, as I walked down the unending sidewalk that wasn’t even broken up by cracks from normal wear and tear. It seemed to stretch into tomorrow with its meandering gait that was anything but straight. And I walked it every day on my way to buy orange … Continue reading What the Ground Revealed
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Soprano
A Writer's Journey
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Exploring life, love, lifting, and (almost) literally everything else, frequently aided by laughter and libations
Just a small town girl who writes about Christian stuff.
Strategic freelance writer specializing in online content, articles, web copy, & SEO.
Natalie. Writer. Photographer. Etc.
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