From Salon by Shira Tarlo…
My comment: Of course not! A lot of people have been waiting aeons for the Anti-Christ!
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A HUMBLING WAY TO LOOK INTO YOUR HEART
Published April 12, 2019 by Nan MykelWhile lying in bed this morning I thought how it would be if instead of remembering all the hurtful things from the past I reviewed all the loving memories that came to me of each of the important people in my life. I won’t say more, but at some point you may want to compare the lists.
Big Bad Drump
Published April 11, 2019 by Nan MykelRead Samantha Michaels’ piece on Trump and Prison Reform in Mother Jones 4/11/19. Like he did during that early gun control meeting, he’s taking credit for endorsing prison reform and then sabotaging it.
Original Flash Fiction: Encounter
Published April 11, 2019 by Nan MykelENCOUNTER
He is a big man, sitting stirring his coffee. Francine, in apron behind the counter, regards him. Her gaze does not waver. Looking up, he is startled. He looks away first, sipping his coffee. “Do I know you,” she asks.
“Do you?” He seems disinterested.
“If so it isn’t a happy memory.”
He throws his hands up and shrugs. “Not guilty.”
“You did something.”
He holds the cup to his mouth with both hands now. “A lot of things.”
Francine speaks to a co-worker and comes out from behind the counter to sit beside him. “Why did you come back?” She studies Roger’s expressionless face.
“I never left.” They are both silent. He sighs. “I drive long distance trucks all across the country. I’m just passing through.”
“You did too leave, and broke Mama’s heart. And took Jenny with you! Mama’s still waiting for you both to return.”
Francine looks around. “Where’s Jenny?”
Roger sighs again. “Can you take a break and step outside for a minute?”
He tosses change on the counter, leads the way outside to a long-haul van and opens the passenger door. “Afraid to get in the cab with me?”
“Of course not,” she replies as he helps her up into the cab and closes the door.
Once inside, Roger speaks immediately. “I hear Dad died of a heart attack ten years ago, soon after I left.”
“You mean after you and Jenny left. Neither one of you came to the funeral.”
As Francine looks on, Roger’s eyes close in a wince which he holds for several seconds. “Francie, Jenny’s in the ground under what used to be our bulb flower bed.” He pauses and blows his nose, looking away from Francine. “You had all gone to church, and I stayed home with strep throat. I watched from my attic bedroom window.”
Francine makes an unintelligible sound and says, “Who!”
Roger’s face knots again. “You know. I don’t want to say his name.”
She sits, uncomprehending, then says, “Dad?!” Her voice is tight.
Roger does not answer at once, then says, “You may not have known it, but he had been molesting Jenny for months. I think she finally threatened to tell, and he couldn’t afford that.”
Francine, speechless, stares at her brother.
Roger continues, “I was a coward. I knew he would see it reflected in my eyes, and I was afraid. But I couldn’t destroy Mom. Or even turn my own father in. I left the house immediately, grabbing my medicine and a few things at random and hitched a ride south.
“But I never left, 
Francie. My whole life has been anchored to you and Mom. I couldn’t destroy Mom, and I couldn’t transfer my burden onto you.” He pauses a minute. “Or see my dad rot away forever behind bars, or worse.
“I’ve always missed Jenny, too.”
Where is Climate Change?
Published April 10, 2019 by Nan MykelAnswer: Very last paragraph–
(CBS SF) — Scientists with the Marine Mammal Center said Wednesday that the gray whale that washed up on the Rodeo shoreline in unincorporated Contra Costa County last week died of severe malnutrition, but due to decomposition they’ve been unable to pinpoint its underlying cause. [Is third case]
Maybe I’m jumping the gun, but I’m concerned if there’s reincarnation there’ll be no Earth to return to! (A little dark humor–sorry).
I Just Realized
Published April 10, 2019 by Nan MykelI’ve always been a little unclear about the concept of the trauma bond, although I wrote a chapter about it. And today I just remembered a friend who told his therapist he hated him, whereupon his therapist replied, “Thank goodness, I was afraid you didn’t care.”
Lovely Spring Day! (Before the winter storm forecast)
Published April 8, 2019 by Nan MykelThe cherry blossoms are blooming in Athens, Ohio! Tulip trees and bradford pears fill the landscape also. Went for a scenic ride with my daughter on the rural backroads of Meigs County and came across this scene, north of Gallipolis, Ohio:
We saw the flowers in my front yard when we got home. Don’t know what they are, but they’re lovely.
I’m a Little Tea Pot Short and Fat…
Published April 3, 2019 by Nan Mykeland that means I can only hold so much before I overflow. What I really feel like is a spark in Trump’s pile of leaves. If I keep gulping down gasoline I’ll burn to a frazzle. Blurbs like the following from Meriah Nichols…
Secretary of Education (and champion of no education) Betsy DeVos is proposing to completely eliminate all $18 million of government funding for Special Olympics and then pump $60 million into Charter schools…
Blurbs like those from Meriah Nichols are making me dangerously combustible. I scare myself when I feel so much rage. So…I’ve unplugged my tv for awhile, although if there is a future I shall have a glaring blindspot for modern history. Tears don’t work. Strokes won’t work, violence is what I’m fighting against. Ignorance everywhere except at the ballot box…maybe I can try praying.
My site is dying…dying…dying…
Published March 30, 2019 by Nan MykelAnd I just read that they’ve discovered our brain knows when we’re dead! Let me outta here! fredrik raddum trans ī re
Inside – A Poem
Published March 27, 2019 by Nan MykelWhat is it that calls forth
embarrassed uncertainty
when inside we stretch to
extend our narrow sense
of self?
A meditative leap into a state of maybe,
beaten back
into the spirit’s self constraint?
Which harbors pretense;
Wherein lies the danger?
The dream state, more permissive,
Offers refuge to those
Wandering familiars
Who beckon.
Nan Image Om Seti
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