Photo by Lukasz Szmigiel on Unsplash


The windows are now

Weeping. The time has come to

Shelter from the tears.


Leaves crunch underfoot.

The trees have begun to change

And shed their colors.


Crystals fall from the

Sky. Multifaceted and

Brilliant, they glitter.


Sunshine clings to all

Your world, heating all the days.

Sidewalks blister feet.


They stand upon the

Hillside, guarding the soil from

Erosion and slide.


Brilliant and ruling

The daytime sky, its light does

Shine to light and heat.


Crystalline figures

Floating from the clouds to fall

On the waiting ground.



Photo by Jacky Zeng on Unsplash

Delaney’s sweet face appeared in the window. Her specs magnified the tears pooling in her eyes. Marilyn wheeled over to the window to see if she could find out what was causing Delaney’s distress.

“I miss you, Nonny! I want one of your big bear hugs, but I’m not allowed…



Photo by Joe Hepburn on Unsplash

It’s just a stepladder, three little steps. I climbed ladders far higher than that when I worked in construction. Francine is such a worrywart. She told me not to climb that little ladder.

“For crying out loud, Greg, you’re not thirty anymore. You’re not even forty. …



Photo by Rahul Chakraborty on Unsplash
  1. Check your cell.
  2. Read, “I want a divorce.”
  3. Shake your head.
  4. Reply, “That is not funny.”
  5. Read, “It’s not meant to be funny. How did you not know?”
  6. Wipe tears.
  7. Reply, “Why didn’t you talk to me at home?”
  8. Read, “Because I’m a coward.”
  9. Sob.
  10. Call lawyer amid tears but with resolute jaw.



A flash piece from a painting

Photo by Külli Kittus on Unsplash

The white walls are as blank as my soul, as empty as my life.

I've been in this hospital/prison for six days, and they are continuing to ask my name. My mind answers Josephine. I cannot force my lips to divulge the information.

They call me Marte. It really doesn’t matter to me. What matters most is that they stopped my blood and bandaged my wrists.

I was so close to the blessed relief. I could feel the finality of death on the horizon. I craved that release, but it was denied.



Paula Dotson Frew

Paula Dotson Frew


I love to write and self-published my first book of poetry last year, a book of Haiku this year, and a book of short stories later this year!