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Our library has two floors, with sixteen stairs between them. “Nothing That is Not For My Good Can Enter Here” I chant Sixteen times, pushing my golden force field past my finger tips, As I rise, nauseous, to serve the … Continue reading
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Hunkered in the frozen marsh, trapped in winter, in congealing mud, I waited. I assumed the subsequent meal, that there would be a reward for my persistence. My reward.
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The week after my first chemotherapy treatment I was working again at the front desk, the “Info” desk, at the library.
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My hands are capable, veined, the palms slightly longer than the fingers, the constellation of lines the same as when I was eight years old. Well, almost. I think. That slash across the lifeline, the fork in the road, one … Continue reading
Photo Credit: screenpunk
I stood on the edge of the cliff, knowing that to continue my journey, to fulfill my life’s purpose, I had to step onto the tightrope stretched across the chasm to the far side.
And I could not move.
For four years I teetered on the brink, paralyzed, face to the wind, tears running down my cheeks, KNOWING that I could not walk that tightrope. Continue reading
Photo Credit: Rune Brimer
The Grandmother had been staring steadily over my right shoulder at my Future for several weeks. Continue reading
You can’t write about the cancer without writing about The Hair. Continue reading
Photo Credit: photophilde
The Grandmother stared fixedly over my right shoulder. As usual, I failed to comprehend the lesson. Continue reading
Photo Credit: Jack Lyons
Drifting in a sea of fatigue, like flotsam washed on the beach, I rested on the acupuncture table, my personal chemotherapy low tide. The Grandmother stood at my feet holding a wing of a large red parrot with yellow epaulets. She waved the wing down the length of my entire body, gently brushing away the disease that the chemotherapy released from my body. Then she stroked upward with the red wing, using it to draw energy up from the Earth, through the soles of my feet, into my chemically burned body.
This was the first impression I had that the cancer was losing its grip.
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