Saturday mornings are my favorite. Nancy and I go for a walk around the park and end at our favorite cafe on the edge of town. Every Saturday. She knows how much I need order and peace in my life. The same routine every week, the gentle spring breeze rustling the vibrant green leaves in the park- it’s medicine for my soul. My rusted, rotten soul.

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_ Blood. so much blood. Screams of agony f...

At midnight each night they switch shifts, a passing moment of relinquishing duty to the next, and resting as the next six days take responsibility. I watch over them all and keep them in check. All seven of them look up to me and respect me, hence the name they’ve bestowed upon me- _Father_ Time. I’ve come to know each of their souls well through their endless shuffle of obligation under my di...

Heels in hand, I jog as much as this ridiculous dress will allow until I reach the front door. My sister and mystery man are still noisily making out on the sidewalk outside when I burst through the doors of the club.

“Ashley Marie O’Brien!” My words are sharp and my finger points violently at the petite blond in a highly inappropriate white dress, complete with a white cowboy hat and a s...

He can choose whatever he wants to be but to me, he is always purple. Purple swaddles a baby in soft pastels, gentle and precious. It clothes a king, harsh and arrogant. I am either the subject of his passion and love, or the subject of his wrath and disgust. Purple softens in the sun, but in the darkness it camouflages itself, dissolving into the shadows. He chooses his hue as the sun rises, and ...

There is a time for everything. A time for sorrow and grief. A time for joy and laughter, for fear and courage. However, to err is human, and in our imperfection we sometimes feel the wrong thing at the wrong time.

I steady my breaths. My heart and mind war over what to feel. I _think_ I should be afraid, but I’m not. My heartbeat thumps behind my ears and I choke down my excitement. The las...

She has taken everything from me. Her porcelain skin glows with all her youth but mine is rough from years of enduring life’s relentless blows. Her gentle hazel eyes glimmer with joy while mine are dull with a dark sheen of reality. She runs and jumps, laughs and sings with the rising sun each morning, but I awake to aching knees and overdue bills. She jokes with my husband, and his eyes are soft ...

The snow that fell in the still of the morning is now stained red and steaming with the warm blood of fallen soldiers. The undisturbed blanket of white is now trampled and muddled under feet propelled by panic. Which is typical, but this particular battle is gruesome. Neither side has been forgiving, but fortunately, we are much more savage than they are.

They expected a meeting t...