Category: Last Woman on Earth

  • “The Red Kerchief” Claud Monet

    “The Red Kerchief” Claud Monet

    I wanted him to notice me. It wasn’t that difficult to see what I wanted. In winter he stayed inside all the time. Painting. He was. All the time. Winter, always a danger to everyone, young and old. No freedom in winter. Too much freedom for him. I wandered by that day wearing red, A […]

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  • Out the car window on…

    Out the car window on the way home

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  • It’s Complicated

    It’s complicated

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  • Desperate Comprimise

    Desperate Compromise To be honest the other night I pretended I didn’t mind this man was a Trump supporter because he was so handsome and I couldn’t take my eyes off of his mostly craggy face. At 80 his arms did not look too bad either. Though I could not see them, I could see […]

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  • My House

    Flash 2 My House       I live alone people think but in fact my house has so many inhabitants I have to be careful when moving through it. There are many men lurking about in my closets and bedroom all of whom seem angry and hungry. The kitchen contains some young ones with […]

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  • Virus

    Virus

    Child’s Game “Hold your breath!” passing a graveyard we said In the back seat of a 57 Ford gravely acknowledging the dead. Now, out walking, I hold my hand over my mouth careful to not breathe in air of living people passing.

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  • Make Butter

    Make Butter

    How to Make Butter

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  • Second Floor Window

    Second Floor Window

      Second Floor Window   People have always asked me if I live alone? I think I must seem like a pack animal. The urge to gather warmth around me so obvious to others but I remain oblivious. From my own personal observation I notice my happiest times are when I am alone reflecting on […]

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  • Last Night I Saw My…

    Last Night I Saw My...

    Last night no one knew if it was the sun setting or the moon rising but it was orange: hung there by a wire moving around our sky, currents of warm air lifting and lowering its round shape enough to light the narrow, soft roads crisscrossing the sandy summer peninsula. One young woman pushing her […]

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  • This Afternoon

    This Afternoon

    I like young old men. Men whose twinkle never faded like some lust or the memory of really good vanilla ice cream. I like the round muscle of their arms, the temptation of golden skin, and the quick way they look at me for what seems like a long time while we are kissing. Each […]

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