Evelyn partitioned the tomato into round slices. “You know, they make a tool to cut it all at once these days.” Her granddaughter Joan shifted from foot to foot.
“It’s called a tomato slicer.” Evelyn thumped her knife down harder than she had intended. “They had them in my day. I never cared for them.” She set aside the cutting board and picked up tongs for the bacon. A grease bubble popped in the skillet. “Ouch!” She jerked her arm out of the way.
“You could cook it in the microwave.”
Evelyn eyed the girl. “You don’t say.” She got ice for her scalded hand. “Get that head of lettuce out of the crisper drawer and tear some up into a colander.” Her granddaughter started to speak, but Evelyn cut her off. “And if you tell me they make salad in a bag, I’ll send you home to your mother’s to eat some. Brown, wilted before it leaves the store shelves. No, thank you.”
“Sorry, Gram.”
“I know you don’t enjoy coming here…”
“I do!” Joan shredded the lettuce into the strainer. “It’s … quaint.”
“You think it’s pedantic. ” Evelyn returned to the bacon. “Do you know what I wish?”
“What?”
“I wish I was forty two again and standing in the Gulf of Mexico with the sand swallowing my feet and the tide straining me one way and then the other. I want to taste salt in every breath of air. I even want those damned nuisance birds, the ones that screech all day long and into the evening.”
Joan supplied, “Seagulls.”
“Yes. I even wish for the seagulls.” Evelyn had better luck with the bacon this time, and Joan had finished with the lettuce. The toaster popped up four identical slices of bread, and Evelyn prepared their sandwiches. She cut them corner to corner and handed them to Joan to carry to the table. “Even the seagulls,” she said, and she followed her granddaughter to lunch.
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Things are never pedantic at Trifecta, and it’s a good thing. It takes my mind off of the work I ought to be doing. (Q: How can you tell I’m overwhelmed? A: When I write a lot of blog posts instead of my other work.)




I’m flying really high right now. If you know me on Facebook or Twitter, you know why. But for those of you who have NOT been bombarded by my bragging yet, a short story of mine was published, not just published, but audiocast. When the amazing producers at Cast of Wonders accepted my piece, I had no idea how extraordinary they truly were. The reader, Tina Connolly, has brought Loma’ai to life in a way I never even dreamed possible. My GOD, Tina’s novel Ironskin has been nominated for a Nebula. A Nebula! And she’s reading my story for Cast of Wonders. I’m speechless. (Only, I’m not. I almost always have words. But I’m tripping all over my tongue.)


I found a high school photo of my
This week finds us back
And this, the lost century, we charge against our souls, holding aloft the future like some cosmic credit line. Reckless, we spend to abandon. We do not expect the bill to come due in our lifetimes.
“The mirrors are a distraction. Focus on what you feel.” MJ lay back on her mat.