my memory is not a reliable narrator of my youth that imagined golden season of whom I used to be vibrant alive whole © 2016 Revised 2020 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved
memory
Dangerous Thoughts
My response to this week's Go Dog Go Cafe's writing prompt. My mother hovers above the 55 miles per hour speed limit, cigarette casually in hand. Her ever-present open bag of spice drops on the dashboard melts lazily in the afternoon sun. It doesn’t matter. Despite the variety of jewel tones contained in the bag, … Continue reading Dangerous Thoughts
Shifting Sands
Several years ago I had the pleasure of taking my first and only Creative Writing Class. One of our short in-class assignments was to take a pleasant memory and write it as if it were a horror story without altering any of the details. high noon sun baked sand under their feet cousins 4 and … Continue reading Shifting Sands
You
your eyes are sometimes all I can think of when I lie here alone at night in the bed we used to share I remember your gaze vulnerable trusting intense your irises not quite green not quite brown ringed in gray reminding me of a stormy seas your mouth is sometimes all I can think … Continue reading You
We Danced with Fireflies
speak to me of summers past when cool, damp grass reached for bare feet with long grasping fingers as we ran through the night quicksilver chasing fireflies through an indigo sky living completely in the moment us on the cusp of adulthood you innocently offering cupped hands to hold moonlight for me the radiance you … Continue reading We Danced with Fireflies
Ephemeral
I am but a wanderer passing through slivers of place of time unconsciously dropping pieces of my heart like late summer berries like seed pods the memory of me sometimes floating away on a draft leaving only the lingering whiff of crisp fall air sometimes taking root growing tender green tendrils in the fertile hearts … Continue reading Ephemeral
Brave & Reckless 