Tag Archives: #writingfiction

Broken Down Stuff

Vermont Public Radio is filled with cheery news. Worst Super Bowl. Lousiest State of the Union Address. More locally, the Honda buried at the neighbors has fully emerged. Where the headlights should be are two gaping holes, the lights themselves … Continue reading

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Ah, Winter

Every winter, I shovel a path from the woodshed to the back entry, and another from the kitchen door to the compost pile, a hand-cut maze around my house. The snow in northern Vermont falls so amply my daughters, when … Continue reading

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Tools of the Trade

I stumble spelling the same handful of words, stupidly over and over. Fuchsia. Schedule. Traveling.  As good, serviceable words, I use them repeatedly, and yet I always catch myself just for an instant. How do those consonants line up in schedule, … Continue reading

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