Go with your gut_The Last Night before Spring_Two Stubborn Women_The Orb and the Peacock Feather
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Go with your gut
It all started with a Facebook post from a former employer that Cheryl had worked for 16 years ago. The company was interested in opening a chain of stores in Las Vegas. This was un-chartered territory for this Southern Californian retail chain. However, the leadership of Daniel's knew that they would have an amazing chance and success if they could get the right person for the job. They decided to reach out to their former employee Cheryl who currently is residing in Las Vegas. Raffy, a current District Manager, decided to shoot his shot with a suggestion thru an instant message post. It ...
The Last Night before Spring
This day arrives each year, and, even though I am aware of how time works, each recursion knocks me off my feet. Sometimes it rains, occasionally it’s sunny (rarely), but most years it either snows heavily or deep frost swallows the world. It is late winter, after all; and, in the mountains, late winter is still hard winter. This year it’s snowing, and there is some mercy in that. My mind catches on each thick flake as it rushes to the ground, vying to outrun its brethren. Then another, and another, there’s no space between snowflakes for thoughts or memory; guilt or regret. The place looks g...
Two Stubborn Women
The night is thick and heavy with clouds when I paint the front of The House yellow. I paint quickly and quietly. I don’t want to wake my neighbor up. The brush goes shhh shhh against the wall and even that is loud. My feet crunch on gravel as I finish up and slip into my home. My neighbor’s cursing wakes me up in the morning. I hear fuck! and shit! I split the blinds with two fingers. The sun shines very bright and I squint to see my other neighbors file outside. They see the yellow paint and shake their heads. One of them points at my home. I come away fromwww.onedoor.cc the window. Knock knock. I do n...
The Orb and the Peacock Feather
The Orb and the Peacock Feather by Elizabeth Fenley“Are you an angel?” The luminescent woman hovering a few inches off the ground smiled. “No, I am not an angel.” Tara frowned, uncertain. “Then, what are you? Or am I dreaming?” “You aren’t dreaming, Tara.” Tara stepped back on the grass of the deserted field she’d never seen before. She’d been on the crowded sidewalk on her way to school. This was beyond creepy. “How do you know my name? Where the hell am I? How the fuck did you---” The woman shook her head. “That’s not important right now.” “Then what, exactly is important?” Tara dema...