The Little Things by Erica Sternin

Gallery

This gallery contains 1 photo.

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

Shape Shifting

Photo Credit: screenpunk

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

Yggdrasil – Tree of The World

Photo Credit: Rune Brimer

Photo Credit: Rune Brimer

The Grandmother had been staring steadily over my right shoulder at my Future for several weeks. Continue reading

The Look

331763_2550774780103_855001823_oYou can’t write about the cancer without writing about The Hair. Continue reading

Death

Photo Credit: photophilde

Photo Credit: photophilde

The Grandmother stared fixedly over my right shoulder. As usual, I failed to comprehend the lesson. Continue reading

Low Tide

Photo Credit: Jack Lyons

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.