Tag Archives: Fiction

My Story: When It’s Enough

My story today includes a few cups of tea.My story today is a little more personal than most of my others, because the mother in the story is based on my own mother — a woman I greatly respect, admire and love.

Children retain so many memories of their parents, but only in the role of parents. So few of us get to know the person outside of the parental role — the coworker, the friend, the person they were before becoming a parent.

My Mother was still waiting. Sitting at the kitchen table with a snack for us, or to take our wet jackets and umbrellas. Sometimes even in the same spot we had left her at breakfast. In my child’s mind she was always waiting for me there – her life at a standstill when I left the room. She is waiting now. For the rain to stop and her grandson to wake from his nap. And maybe even for me.

Listen to: When It’s Enough.

That’s my story. Tell me one of yours.

 

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My Story: The Virus Is the Cure

My story today features a beautiful virus.A familiar, soft buzzing noise is at the heart of my story.

It’s amazing how that little buzz/ping/beep has integrated into our days. There is the phantom buzz where you think you heard your phone, but aren’t sure. And there is even the buzz check where you haven’t heard a buzz in so long, you have to check your battery.

But what if there was just silence? Imagine that your phone stopped talking to you.

There was once a time when he had to corral people and demand they stack their phones in the center of the conference table just to keep their attention for the 15-minute meeting. He thought of how they would look now – a tower of empty boxes.

Listen to: The Virus Is the Cure.

That’s my story. Tell me one of yours.

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My Story: The Separated Life of Annie Good

No stories were harmed in the making of my story today. My story today focuses on the idea that we all have very different childhoods. But what if yours was so unusual, you had to hide it? In The Separated Life of Annie Good, we meet a woman who lies about the abnormality of her upbringing because the lie is easier to explain. Even to her boyfriend:

In her defense, she had spent the first four weeks of their relationship believing it would never work out between them. He was, after all, a calculus major. During their first date he had tried to start conversations with her about social economics and politics before they were able to settle on classic cinema as a mutually satisfying topic. By the time she had realized her miscalculation on his viability as a long-term boyfriend and started believing in his potential, it seemed too late to delve into childhood issues.

Abnormal is the new normal.

That’s my story. Tell me one of yours.

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My story: After the Kidnapping

My story today involves eating soup for every meal.My story today is a bit darker than usual.

Today’s story, After the Kidnapping, is a single-person perspective from a woman trying to deal with a traumatic event in her life, but it’s hard for her to keep all her thoughts straight.

I stole the neighbor’s cat on the second move. He was a friendly, scrawny guy who sat on the porch of my parent’s house always in the sunshine. He spent all his days outside of his own home — three doors down from my parents — it was filled with the barking of little yappy dogs.

It’s a jumble of emotions, but a story that takes surprisingly few words to tell.

That’s my story. Tell me one of yours.

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My story: I Should Have Peed Before I Left

My story advice includes when to use the bathroom.My story today includes a little motherly advice.

We are all familiar with motherly advice — that nagging (and usually correct) voice in our heads. In today’s story — I Should Have Peed Before I Left — we hear advice on common issues, like cleaning:

Alyssa was standing naked in her kitchen admiring her clean floors. She had mopped them when she first moved in, but this was her first real chance to give them a thorough scrubbing. Alyssa had woken earlier than usual that Sunday, and had scoured her new apartment. As the faux tile floor dried, Alyssa walked into her beige-on-white bathroom to freshen up before putting her clothes back on.

The wisdom of our parents spans across all topics, including love. We just have to learn to listen. Tell me your favorite bit of motherly advice in the comments section.

That’s my story. Tell me one of yours.

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