Ghosts that We Knew

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A few weeks ago my husband mentioned that he wanted to ride bikes on the High Bridge Trail. “The what?” I asked and he went on to describe a state park, less than an hour and a half from our house that is 31 miles of trail, built in the path of an old (think mid-1800s) rail line. The highlight of which, as the name indicates, is the High Bridge. Also part of the old rail line, the bridge is about a half mile in length and places you eye level with the tops of the trees. Continue reading

One Room Down, One Up

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I’ve heard the story about my grandparent’s first home many times over the years. A granary on the family farm that they repurposed into a modest house after getting married. Two small stories, one room on the bottom and a second stacked right on top of it. They got married in 1947 in rural Virginia– there was no indoor bathroom and heat was provided courtesy of a fireplace. When they talk about their first home, they still look at each other and smile as I imagine they did 68 years ago, except with more knowing. Less mystery about what lies ahead. Continue reading

Leaping (August 1998)

This week’s post is the second and final in my two week celebration of graduation. As I was preparing this series of posts, I started to wonder what exactly is it about graduation? Why do I have these snippets of fiction from totally separate projects that share this common theme? They certainly didn’t grow out of some common writing prompt. In fact, they weren’t connected at all until I got the idea to share them here as part of a series. Graduation, at it’s root, is paradox at its best; both an end and a beginning. When I think about it in that context it’s not hard at all to understand why I keep coming back to it. The piece I’m sharing this week explores exactly that juxtaposition. The new and the old. The bitter and the sweet. The now and the not yet. Enjoy!

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