Greener Pastures_Takapuna Photo_Betty Boucher_Everyone Here Knows Helen Mays is a Witch
Catalog Guide:
Greener Pastures
I leaned against my car in the parking lot of my apartment and took the first drag of my cigarette, Tony’s voice behind me nearly made me jump out of my skin. “I thought you quit.” “Son of a biscuit eater, Tony!” I yelled at my husband as I tried to calm my racing heart. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.” Tony was always sneaking up on me. I had considered putting a bell around his neck like a cat. The thought made me laugh now, despite my annoyance. I passed the cigarette to my husband, who had quit smoking long ago, and watched him blow smoke rings. I sighed. “Yea...
Takapuna Photo
In the hot, crowded market at Takapuna, sweat trickling under my arm, I pull out my sleek little Nikon 35Ti. It is the final month of our sabbatical in Auckland. Four-year-old Daniel is leaning toward a tray of baked goodies, small glazed confections slathered with gooey white, dotted with teasing reds, sprinkled with edible glitter. On the first Saturday every month, this vendor comes by with tray after tray of exotic delights—and is sometimes mobbed by people “in the know.” But we are not; this is a spur-of-the-moment occasion. “Look this way,” I say, and Daniel faces me, but his eyes slide ...
Betty Boucher
Through the green leaves of the shrubs there was a young girl who is sitting on the bare earth attempting to ground herself. She was building her atmosphere piece by piece knowing that this time it would be correct. This time she would re-invent herself and be special to someone, finally. That thought faded into others.Where she was gwww.onedoor.ccoing to get the money was still a mystery, but she still had her mind and body to take and use to get a man. She didn't know that's even what she wanted, she didn't know how she got there, but A shower would be nice, maybe some clean clothes and something to eat w...
Everyone Here Knows Helen Mays is a Witch
Mauve was perched behind the counter at the village post office with her elbows jutting out from her bony shoulders like wings. Her dark little eyes shifted in their sockets. She wiped the counter for the third time with a paper towel and then nervously readjusted the stack of packages beside her. She was new in town, and just filling in for the day, she wanted to make a good impression. Dory Williams didn’t much care what Mauve wanted. She was round as a bowling ball with tight, salt and pepper curls that hugged against her large head, She looked like she’d bitten into something bitter when ...