The Storyteller's Stories

My fingernail has gotten…weird. I Googled it. It’s probably cancer. Or nothing. Maybe a hangnail that decided to do something with its...

I am a blanket. Not a sweater. I’ve spent my life wishing to be something more functional. More take-along-ish. More of a sweater. For...

These words are not for everyone. They’re for those of us who have felt a twinge or a tidal wave of rage. Or anywhere in between. Maybe...

I’m at the end of my rope. And I think my rope’s pretty long. I’m good at keeping my cool. It’s been three hours of screaming after weeks...

I say goodbye. I kiss her. I try to get a hug. She isn’t into it, but she giggles as I shower her with kisses. “MOOOMEEEE!!!!”. "Okay,” I...

She’s so long. I look at her ‘piggies’ and scan her all the way up to her blonde crown. There’s so much of her. It didn’t creep up on me...

As Ruth and I walk up to the swing set, a little girl calls out to me. “Watch me!”. She says with an edge in her voice. Assertive. She...

I like real things. Walks. Brisket. The dog and the meat. Meals. Clean floors, even if they’re a rarity. Books. Conversations. Plays....

“I’ll be right back to put you in your car seat. Mumma always comes back,” I reassure her before I leave. Karine holds her up to the...

I sit here heartless. No, not that heart. The center of my circulatory system is still here pumping blood through this body of mine that...