Where Is The Goddamned Light?

Where was the goddamned light? Couldn’t they send someone for her? She hated the way she felt; dazed and hazy the way you feel when you wake up from a nap that has done more harm than good. It was dark and there were no lines only jagged ends to things, half of this and a quarter of that, she didn’t see any wholes. This place wasn’t what she had expected.

Living the Life My Mother Once Did

I remember the smell of smoke in our living room. My father sat on the velvet green couch, a Lucky burning in the ashtray beside his tumbler of scotch. He held one eye on the sports section of the paper, and the other on the nightly news. My mother often came in, though she rarely joined him. The living room, with it’s intricately beaded throw pillows, belonged to him. 

1,354 Things You Find in the Guts of a Mother Purse

With Halloween fast approaching I am all about gross and scary, and there is nothing more disgusting and frightening than the innards of a mother purse. If you are like me, you won't change out purses for occasions (as our grandmothers used to).