Category Archives: Bus Stop Stories

Panic Street

Posted on September 24, 2016 by O

via Daily Prompt: Panic Read the news or don’t read the news. There’s panic in the air.  Shootings, shootings, shootings.  On the streets.  In malls, movies, churches. Little dead things in the garage.  Tiny pink with bulging blue eyes like … Continue reading →

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Bacon and the Bed of Roses

Posted on March 17, 2016 by O

Running late again.  What’s new?  I always make it on time, a little less for wear.  About a block from the bus stop I smell the delicious scent of bacon frying or maybe already on someone’s fork hovering before their … Continue reading →

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The Old Willow Tree

Posted on February 18, 2016 by O

“Am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man, or am I a man dreaming that I am a butterfly?” As preposterous as it seems many of us know this is true, waking up and looking at our funny … Continue reading →

Posted in Always the Garden, Bus Stop Stories, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Like A Thousand Souls Falling

Posted on February 12, 2016 by O

  I want the spring but can’t help noticing how lovely the snow is coming…like twirling pieces of confetti, a thousand souls gently falling.  Perhaps they will water my spring flowers. If you feel despair as you sometimes do before … Continue reading →

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“Eleanor Rigby”, the Cold, a Red Apple

Posted on February 11, 2016 by O

It was nine degrees this morning, a slight panic again about the long walk I had, the icy air, the sun that everyone pines for, today was an electric blade, my eyes could hardly see through the glare, the atomic … Continue reading →

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That Thing Hanging from a Branch Over the River

Posted on October 16, 2015 by O

Suddenly the cold. Suddenly the wind. Suddenly the skies darken again. Just last Saturday the guys came to put up the storms. Again. Summer just fled. The days of gentle delicious night breezes cooling off my feet. Gone. The vast … Continue reading →

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Shall I Fly North or South?

Posted on December 15, 2014 by O

I ran out without a hat this morning. Usually in the winter, once I put the hat on, it doesn’t come off until April. No hat, no gloves, jacket flying open. It was that warm this December, and I was … Continue reading →

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