“Twenty-Five Cents” my new story on masticadoresindia

Long John Silvers was one of my first jobs in high school. Riding my bike on Saturday, hungry, smelly, and with jeans that hugged my thin frame to the point of being naughty, I went inside. The sign on the door said, “Help Needed.” All the high schoolers went there to eat lunch because it […]

Hidden in childhood – reading of God’s Grace

To purchase Hidden In Childhood, go to this link Amazon. This book makes a precious gift to anyone with a family member who was abused or is still being abused. For children raised by parents that provided a healthy and safe environment to grow up in, this book gives them an idea of what many […]

Live on MasticadoresIndia – “Secret behind my dad’s death”

Strange questions were bouncing off the wall when I said goodbye to Dad. As I lay, the phone down, my intuition was flexing its head like a water moccasin. I sensed a myriad of harsh realities lurking like monsters in dense fog. It was a simple lung biopsy, and they had stabilized his blood pressure, […]

My New Poem “Sunflower – A New Page” Live On MasticadoresUSA

I am a sunflower golden, proud, and tall dancing playfully toward the bright sun no longer living in the land of the small Dots of death at night bees that can sting mom sewing me shut to curtain my truth No longer huddling up a cowardly thing Hiding my food in panties so I could […]

My Debut Short Story “Cold Red Washcloth” Live on MasticadoresIndia

The fog was so feathery that its appearance was like a thin sheet floating just above the tops of the Longleaf Pines. Sleep would not come easy tonight as I climbed trees and drove my bike to our town’s small store. Catching the sun coming up tomorrow was what I wanted, and I was considering […]

MY POEM “Lonely employment” live on edge of humanity

you ride your bike, crying down the hard dirt roadyour morning spent killing fliestheir price, a penny a carcasshanding me my money through the soul of their drunken hollowyou wonder, would they spend a penny for meI buy hot balls in a brown paper bag with my pennies To continue reading please visit EDGE OF […]

Abused child

do not presume to know memy face a frowning mooncrevices of sadness besmeara hoary soul who wonders here wounds scab, heal and gazeas an eyeless void, she paintsno peak can lug the weightof a child begotten such a fate