Chapters of Life_Birthday Breakfast_Dinah's Roadside Diner_Big girl
Catalog Guide:
Chapters of Life
[7 year old Chloe]A thick layer of snow enveloped the lonely streets like a newly washed blanket that enclosed a deserted bed. Seven year old Chloe ran around the playground as her mother bellowed “Hold up, darling, not so fast,” It was like a hornet chasing after a cwww.onedoor.cculprit. But the call was in vain, for Chloe was already halfway through her climb up to the topmost branch of the banyan tree.“Jeez, Chloe, that’s really high up,” her mother groaned as she followed her daughter’s steps.“The sky looks beautiful, momma,” the seven-year old squealed craning her neck upwards, capturing the sight in h...
Birthday Breakfast
There is no answer when I tap gently on the closed door of my step-daughter’s bedroom.“Jenny?” I call out. “Can I open the door?”This at least elicits a noncommittal “Huh” which I choose to interpret as ‘Yes’.I turn the knob and push the door open. Jenny is seated at her desk in front of the computer, no doubt on Facebook or Twitter or Instagram or God knows what kids spend all their time on. Her blonde hair is uncombed and she’s still dressed in the t-shirt and jogging shorts she had worn to bed last night.“What?” She questions, turning her head to glance in my direction for less than a secon...
Dinah's Roadside Diner
Dinah’s Roadside Diner: A Fishy TaleI pulled off the Pacific Coast Highway about twenty miles south of Half Moon Bay and parked my car under a tall sign that read Dinah’s Diner. When I walked through the entry door I got a welcoming hello from a bartender whose name tag read Tom. When I asked if the restaurant was open yet he said, “Twenty minutes,” so I slid onto a barstool and ordered a beer to pass the short wait. As Tom pulled the tap handle I said hello to the only other customer; a guy with a short, white, beard who told me his name was Dave. We’d settled into a sociable conversation wh...
Big girl
CW: body shaming, mental health, body image issues The mirror's size, shape, clarity; the lighting in the room, the color of the paint on the walls, the surfaces in the reflection, whatever was behind me; none of that mattered. Those things weren’t the problem. The problem was the fat girl in the mirror’s reflection. The problem was me. My dad is Wayne, my brother is Wayne Jr., and my mother died of breast cancer when I was thirteen. We’ve always been the big family. Not like, “there’s a lot of people in that family” big, but like, “wow, those people are big humans” big. I’m Winona. It means...