A Lady with a Pen
Bio
Caroline Robertson's, books are beloved by both adults and children alike for their illustrations and engaging stories. She takes readers on an adventure, giving them the opportunity to explore different cultures, settings, and characters.
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Stories (86)
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From a Distance, We Were Perfect
The ocean sprayed salty water across my face, sloshing over the front of the tender boat as we cruised forward, crashing over waves and leaving the massive cruise ship in our wake. My parents had a day of excursions planned. It was hot. I had forgotten an elastic, and my blond hair blew in every direction, curling in the salt air. My makeup was flawless, and my bikini fit perfectly on my size-four body, covered by a crocheted, yellow-striped top I adored.
By A Lady with a Pen5 months ago in Fiction
To My Husband
To My Husband, As the years have passed, you’ve often asked me why I love you. For you, it has been a collection of moments, a slow unfolding of habit and familiarity, a gentle growing used to my presence. For me, it was different. For me, it was a single moment. From the very beginning, I knew it was you—I recognized it immediately, as I have with the most important choices in my life: that you were the one I would love for the rest of my days. I often felt hurt it took you so long too see. But for me, it was this moment that changed my future.
By A Lady with a Pen5 months ago in Poets
Just a Tiny Lantern
We’re only half an hour from town, but it feels like we’ve disappeared. Trees close in like we’re in a bubble, and the dry air smells like pine and dust. They banned travelling in the woods that morning because the ground was so dry, a campfire or hiking was no longer an option. We stayed close to our tent with little to do but talk and swim in the lake. The kids are zipped into the tent next to us, fast asleep. Our laughter bounces against nylon walls as we settle into Ben’s tent. He doesn’t usually camp. His setup is hilariously inadequate—a sad little bedroll, single pillow and a blue blinding flashlight, all items, including the tent, were carefully collected and borrowed from family members so that he could be part of our family’s summer camping ritual. I’ve brought my things—an avalanche of pillows, fleeces, folding chairs and my camping poncho. Ben laughs the minute I start pulling them through the small, zippered door of his tent.
By A Lady with a Pen5 months ago in Fiction
Friday Mr. Pencil
She is a professional, but her outfits always push the limits. She loves attention and is very generous with sharing photos of herself with men. I hate it; I often wonder who else received these pictures and if they were actually intended for me. But it’s the videos she sends of herself—just being her, laughing, singing, or chatting with me—while I can see her lace bra peeking out from under her silky tank top beneath her blazer. Sometimes, she positions the camera so I catch a glimpse of her thigh tattoos, and even more often, I notice her lack of panties. Occasionally, there are videos of her walking along the sidewalk, already late for a meeting; she’s always late. Her heels click on the pavement, her sunglasses are stuck in her hair, and her eyes sparkle as she makes a final joke before heading into her council meeting. I know these are made just for me, and I see her—who she really is—and she’s stunning. I can’t help but wonder what the people in the meeting she’s headed to must think as that immense presence enters the room.
By A Lady with a Penabout a year ago in Confessions
A Stream of my Consciousness
“Shimmy shimmy shimmy shimmy, one, two, one two and shimmy shimmy shimmy shimmy.” Ha, my coin belt is making the most satisfying sounds. Chica chica, chica, chica. Right, eyes follow hands; it’s sexier. Hands wide and twirl shimmy, hand up and shimmy shimmy down.
By A Lady with a Penabout a year ago in Poets
My Moment with Humility
It started yesterday. I had a full day of meetings and reports to write, so I had no time for anything but work. I woke up feeling feverish. My daughters had just had the flu, so I assumed I must be getting it, too. I sleepily stumbled to the washroom and went to pee. It hurt a little; my back was sore, and when I wiped, there were spots of blood. I'd just had my period, so I shrugged off the strangeness.
By A Lady with a Penabout a year ago in Journal
