Welcome to Chez Rachel, your home away from home!
I’m so glad you’ve chosen my rental property! (Thank you!) This welcome binder contains some handy tips to make your visit as fruitful as possible.
Chez Rachel is conveniently located just …
“On my first day of summer vacation” was always our first writing assignment when we got back to school. This year I had a doozy of a story, and no one will believe it.
I started my essay by saying …
We met when we were six. The house we moved to, on Havelock Street, was opposite Stink’s house. It was a small street with about fifteen houses. Houses pushed together in a tight terrace, all with the same backyards. We …
Everything is a frying pan when you’re coated in grief.
Debbie Feit is an accidental mental health advocate, unrelenting Jewish mother and author of The Parent’s Guide to Speech and Language Problems(McGraw-Hill) as well as numerous texts to her …
‘Granddad, where are we?’
Ralph made a panoramic sweep of the field and bit his bottom lip. The setting was alien to the town dweller.
‘I, er..’
They were in a meadow of warm calf-high grasses that swayed in a …
Doll for sale. Talks in unknown language. Doesn’t need batteries.
Jacek Wilkos is an engineer from Poland. He lives with his wife and two daughters in a beautiful city of Cracow. He is addicted to buying books, he loves black …
That is not a pejorative statement. My ex-wife Viva was animated. But not in the way you’d think. It had zero to do with her personality. Although, she was as they say, a pistol. I’ll go back to the day …
Neon lights flare in rain puddles. Pigeons dabble with glitz.
Lisa resides in Northern California, where she loves writing in coffee shops and taking long quiet walks. Say hello at http://www.facebook.com/authorlisamariefiction…
I married Walt on the coldest day of the year. Family gathered around the dead oak tree in mama and daddy’s backyard, overlooking the tobacco fields. Mama’s eyes as cold as the temperature, signaling to me she understood the significance …
Sofia was a storyteller. She lived in a hut at the edge of the forest, where she spun strands of words from the air and wove them into stories. Storytelling was a dying art, but Sofia kept it alive by …