Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Benny
She lowers her beak and threads through her cold plumage. It's a cold night at the farm and their warm barn invites her in. The snow is thick and frigid. Benny's family was not comfortable with her anymore. She would have to fly solo. She spreads her wings and takes off from a beam in the barn. Her face is as white as the snow surrounding her. Her eyes, darker than the blackest mouse she had caught. She ends her flight by perching on a fence post out in one of the farthest fields.
By Holda Crocker5 years ago in Families
The Tree Man
It’s a ten-hour drive out to the family farm. I’ve thought about getting a trucker’s license, just so I can capitalize on these insanely long trips by hauling a trailer from North Carolina to Maryland. I could learn the route, ingratiate myself with the community, get some more respect on the road. I could talk to my trucker friends on the radio, and we can pull off for meth breaks. Who knows. Might be a worthwhile venture.
By Steezy Mac5 years ago in Families
Voyage to the Cabin
The old log cabin looks like a big brown boulder in the middle of nowhere, sticking out of the sea of blinding white snow and tucked away in all of these tall, white birch trees. It’s been 2 years since I’ve made the long, bumpy 41 mile drive into this mountain. I’ve been so absorbed in my own life, working to get the partner promotion at the local law firm, that I’ve missed our annual and spur of the moment “voyages” to the cabin. I’ve constantly been searching for every possible angle to win cases for the lives of the clients that I defend, that I haven’t even given it a thought as to what fighting for my own life would entail, let alone trying to actually live it. At least that was the case until 3 weeks ago when I lost her. She was so funny and the wisest person I knew and she wasn’t just kind, she was empathetic and not only calm but, peaceful. You couldn’t help but, just feel better in her presence. It was like the rest of the world and worries just faded away like an early morning fog does when the sun peaks above these very mountains. She had an answer for everything, even to the most impossible questions and she didn’t just listen, she saw you. It was as if she could see everything you’ve tried so hard to keep hidden. There were no secrets with her, she knew everything, even the dark things you didn’t dare speak aloud for fear that they’d start existing outside of your body, as if it were contagious. Thirty five years with her wasn’t nearly enough time. I should’ve taken time off, asked more questions, been more present. My grandmother was everything to me. She was healthy until, one morning she was putting in the earrings I bought her for her birthday this June, and all of a sudden she felt a pinch in her neck. She thought maybe she had slept wrong until the pain migrated through her shoulder and the heart aneurism, we had no idea about, took her life before I could make it to the hospital.
By Ashley Marjean5 years ago in Families
Visions
Sarah Rose Petersen 1/18/21 It was she who had taught me to visualize, all those years ago. Back when I would spend days, weeks even, propped up in bed or upright in a chair, grasping for each breath. The affliction of severe lung disease is a desperate one. It is a brutal and forced form of meditation. There is no option but to focus on the breath. The here. The now. Each breath is carefully orchestrated by muscles whose job it is to do things other than aid inhale or exhalation. The shoulders, the upper back, the neck. During these agonizingly long days of attack, she taught me to visualize.
By Sarah Petersen5 years ago in Families
The Balance
Victor Malcolm and Jeff Lindsay were contractors in competition. Malcolm Construction would get more jobs than Lindsay Construction because their bids were always the lowest. As the years go by, Victor would spend his money as if it came from a well. While Jeff would handle his finances as if he was experiencing a drought.
By Annelise Lords 5 years ago in Families
Ancestral Spirit
The little boy was restless, and watching too much television had made him cranky. His mother told him when she finished washing dishes that they could do anything he wanted. He requested one of his favorite things, no matter what time of year it was. He wanted to go hiking by the lake. His mother agreed they could both use the fresh air and exercise.
By Carole Anzolletti5 years ago in Families
The Most Significant Loss
With watered down eyes I wandered again onto our deck to find the periodic call of an owl that plagued my lonely midnight rituals. I didn’t care, I wasn’t sleeping, I was drinking, and the random hollering-screech of the unseen bird gave me a task second to drowning myself into unconsciousness. Every night I’d forget about the calls then just before the blackness overtook my mind a loud but subtle, “eeeeek” would pull me back to life. I’d sit up. Once so quickly I kicked red wine all over the couch having again to flip the cushion. I’d mentioned the night caller to my husband, my daughter, my mom, but I was the only one ever awake to witness the actual sounds. In my state, I could never identify an area where it was coming from, just a general direction. I heard it best off my deck but in the pure black of the mountain evergreen’s my jostled mind could not get a grasp on the cries that seemed to toy with me as fast as falling stars.
By Johnna Crawford 5 years ago in Families
