Clementine Chesterfield
Writing is therapeutic!
Clementine Chesterfield
Writing is therapeutic!
Writing is therapeutic!
Writing is therapeutic!
Toddlers wanting snacks to eat
Stretch on tippy toes to reach the cupboard
School kids wanting to impress their teacher
Stretch their arm up high to be called on
Young adults wanting to impress each other
Stretch the truth about their accomplishments
Adults paying for lifestyle, children, college,
stretch their income for survival...
Scott was in a slump. It was understandable to feel down, in the midst of a pandemic. In his final semester at Columbia, he tried to will himself to keep studying and living life as normally as possible. As he trod toward Trader Joe’s from his apartment, he felt the desolation of a city still struggling. There were fewer people clogging the sidewalks, but those who remained looked grim and haggard...
Susi’s head throbbed. Her mouth was dry and tasted of rancid wine. She felt the damp grit of sand on half her face. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, gunked together with last night’s mascara and remnants of false eyelashes. It was barely daybreak, but she could see a few earlybirds out, walking dogs or getting a jog in. Her party dress from last night was wrinkled and askew. Her shoulder length cur...
Kevin shook his head after Calvin finished telling his brother the latest upheaval in his marriage.
In the sixteen years since they’d wed there had been four kids, physical and emotional abuse (on her part), infidelity (on both their parts), a move cross country (her demand), his job loss (caused by her), and more.
“Man no offense but what the hell is wrong with you? Why didn’t you leave her a lon...
My date with the Jewish doctor loomed ominously. He seemed nice but I wasn’t especially attracted to him. I was resignedly wrapping up my three month stint on match.com. I’d stupidly agreed to a dinner date and a concert, in NYC. With the 40 minute drive to and from, I was going to be trapped, minimally, for the next 6-7 hours with this guy. The drive and dinner proceeded uneventfully. His friends...
Matt had been eager to oblige when the flight attendant asked if he’d switch seats to be in an exit aisle. He had always been a nice, polite person even as a kid, the type teachers and coaches liked and appreciated as a leader. Other kids liked him too, because he was kind and calm and amiable. It didn’t hurt that he was handsome, astonishingly so as he grew into a man. He folded his 6’4” athletic...
There is no elevator. Heels clickety clack and a heavy gait creaks across the uncarpeted floors. In summertime it is hot; there is no air conditioning. There’s not much parking, only one spot per tenant. There’s not much storage, so belongings have been pared down. There is no washer/dryer, no dishwasher. There is not room for many guests. No more than two people can sit at the kitchen table, and ...