Full Count_A Faded Memory_Not my box_Charlie's Gift
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Full Count
As I stepped into the mound, throwing a few warm-up pitches with my catcher, nerves overtook me. My body felt jumpy, and overstimulated, I fidgeted as my catcher retrieved the ball I had released too late. "Hey! Gilbert, keep your head on your shoulders!" My coach called to me. I held my glove out for the ball and nodded at his words. "Get up there, Jones," The opposing team's coach hollered. The first one up for this inning was #46, she was a heavy hitter, but she struggled with fast balls sometimes. I watched as she positioned herself in front of the plate, and then stilled and looked at me....
A Faded Memory
Bessie sat staring toward the dense woods at the edge of the property. She focused on nothing, her macular eyes long useless. Sometimes rocking, sometimes not, her frail fingers tightly grasped the wooden armrests. It was chilly this time of year in Georgia, but Bessie loved fresh air, so one of the aides had wheeled her outside, helping her into the rocker and tucking a ratty, multi-tone pink afghan across her lap. Bessie once said she’d crocheted it when her daughters were small.In the parking lot of the nursing home, her great-granddaughter Sara had just pulled into a space. There’d been a ...
Not my box
“Amanda Meyer.” It’s carved in primitive chunks on the underside of the box. My name. Not my box. It’s one of those ornately carved boxes you’d get for 50 cents at the gift shops in Chinatown, smelling of linseed oil and jasmine, or maybe rosewood? I examine all six sides. Petals radiate out on the top www.onedoor.ccwith unmatched mother-of-pearl chips embedded in the centre as the flower’s pistil and stamen. The sides are almost Celtic in their design: a ribbon of vine on either side of a continuous line of layered petals, each box corner decorated with the same random mother-of-pearl sex parts. On the bot...
Charlie's Gift
When I met Charlie he was stationed in Germany with the reserves. we texted and Skyped until he came home. Then we dated and really hit it off. Both of us had been hurt in the past. So we wanted to take it slow and be sure of our feelings. I told him of my insecurities with men, and how it had ti do with me growing up with a controlling mother. She was not an affectionate person either. When I was a teenager, my body was changing and emotions were all over the place. I had no one to turn too for advice and support. Mother was a bitch and didn't seem to care. I was depressed and shy around a l...