Susan’s Stories and Posts
My mother says I taught myself to read by the time I was four. I couldn’t wait to discover the magic of words. I remember sitting at the breakfast table reading the cereal box. When finished, I read it again. I am addicted to words.
People ask me how often I write—writers are always writing. Even without a piece of paper in front of us, words are bouncing and buzzing in our heads like bees trapped in a glass jar.
I you like my stories, you can read more in my book, Wine and Cereal: An Irreverent Look at Sixtyish and Single, Volumes I and II. Click here to purchase. Thanks.
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My Moby Dick
The spider freezes at the burst of light. I’m face-to-face with my personal Moby Dick—a monstrous black spider haunting the turtle barn.
Flood Gates
I need a therapist.
“Quit being so sad all the time,” my sainted brother says. “It’s time for you to get mad.”
Roasting Marshmallows
“Let’s make a campfire,” my Uncle Randall suggested. “We can roast marshmallows.” My sons cheered this idea as they raced around my grandmother’s sloping lawn. The West Virginia night sparkled with fireflies.
The Eyes Have It
I’m scheduled for cataract surgery on Wednesday and I’m just a tiny bit panicked. Maybe more than a tiny bit because they are slicing my eye!
WILD KINGDOM
“Shut up, Oscar!” I’m typing, trying to meet a deadline.
Oscar barks more. I steal a glance over my shoulder into the backyard. He barks at a squirming line in the dirt.
Son of a biscuit! He’s barking at a snake!
Scotch Spirits
“I’m starving.” I plop into my chair, turning to meet Liz, a friend of my buddy, Barb.
“Me, too,” Liz says over the bustle of the lunch rush. “I just biked 40 miles.”
Forty miles?
“Well,” I say, “I walked the dogs for about 20 minutes.”
