Tag Archives: Lois Greene Stone

Stationery

Inside the drawer, scented with cherry-aroma pipe tobacco, was personalized writing paper. His identity, etched on granite now, had no need to appear as a letterhead. Bittersweet choice: to use one sheet and envelope, or to use up all that … Continue reading

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top floor

Slanted ceiling, missing wallboard from supporting beams, attics in film seem stuffed with memories and no longer used items. Are noises the mind’s tricks tempting us to climb a ladder into that space? Allowing concealed steps to drop, a sound … Continue reading

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Concealed yet permanent

I knit you a yellow wool hat with grosgrain streamers to tie under your infant neck. No ultrasounds existed so I selected a unisex color. Later you wore wooly hats handmade by my mother; she always made a pom-pom from … Continue reading

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bicycle

The three-speed green bicycle had both tires flat. I moved it away from the garage wall. A rusted kickstand scraped as I forced airless rubber tires to turn. I squeezed the handbrakes. Years ago, my daughter whizzed from the garage, … Continue reading

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Role-Model

I touched my mother’s hands; they weren’t swollen with the familiar plumpness from arthritis. With great effort, she was sitting having her hair done so I’d see her ‘well’. Someone once said that hospital patients are ready for release when … Continue reading

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Metal Clamps

“August 1945,” my mother let out a deep sigh. She wrapped a Swirl cotton dress around her naked body, feeling more comfortable without the extra undergarments. New York was hot and humid. She opened her shoe hassock, looked inside at … Continue reading

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A Glittering Tradition Passes From Hand to Hand

I stood in the corridor of the chemistry department; its characteristic odor bothered me. As I moved into the formation a teacher suggested it was time to make, I could see beakers, microscopes, atomic element charts through the panel of … Continue reading

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glass panes and headboards

My palms had moist beads forming; I blotted them on my proper black skirt. A chilly January breeze circled my legs and the hem fluttered. Only my eyes seemed fixed, as I wiggled my black, suede, high-heeled shoes on coarse … Continue reading

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time

My older sister and I had not seen one another for a decade, had little contact during that time because of family conflict, and we were reuniting inside a Las Vegas hotel shaped like a pyramid. From the air, as … Continue reading

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Daddy’s Desk

Pieces of childhood memories move in and out of our lives, sometimes evoking apprehension instead of security; how can a desk be one of those fragments for me? Stretched out on the double bed with spreading papers touching a tufted … Continue reading

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