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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Whiskey Sour
“I’m buying this to collect it,” Barb says as she tucks a bottle of Talisker whiskey into her bag.
Right, I think, like I collect wine.
Tipping Point
“I’m worried about tipping over,” Liz says as she eyes the kayaks lined up on the pebbly Scottish beach.
The New Normal
“Overall, your health is excellent,” my internist says.
I puff my chest like a peacock on parade.
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.”
