The heat here has turned grasses into a balding, crackling, brittle mat; the ground sounds like dry Rice Krispies underfoot. Clumps of locusts, skilled in martial arts and armored up in primary colors (mostly red, yellow, and green), strut around with rude self-confidence. If they're part of the food chain, I'll eat my hat. As… Continue reading Where There’s Smoke
Author: PenMantis
At home, in my shell, I get up to all sorts of creative mischief and drink an awful lot of tea. If I sign a document, if I have to be official and formal, my name is Michele Damstra.
Have You Got Mail?
There are a few things I don't do anymore. I don't do them because I can't do them. It has nothing to do with my age, everything to do with the age we live in. If I want to go to a drive-in... to watch movies, I can't. The majority of drive-ins went out of… Continue reading Have You Got Mail?
Mistaken Identity
I left my son in the parking lot. He was sitting sideways on the passenger seat of my car, both legs out the open door, filing a tenacious corn with a foot file I had just bought. Don't frown. He is an adult (nearly 21). I went to Checkers to buy milk and something else… Continue reading Mistaken Identity
Felling Our Life Tree – About Suicide
It sounds like a skeleton singing is how my eldest son described Macy Gray's voice when he was very much younger than he is now. The Letter sounds like a suicide note to me. I recently heard it said that suicide is a selfish act, yet a brave one too. Is it selfish? Is it… Continue reading Felling Our Life Tree – About Suicide
MantisWheel 