Modern Life By the Numbers

CheneyLife Stories, Poetry4 Comments

I am twenty pounds heavier than last year and ten pounds heavier than I was the first time he told me he loved me. There have been four men since him, and six new apartments. Two roommates, two cats, and one child. Leaning into thirty-five, those numbers are scary. They seem small in the scheme of things when the scheme of things includes light … Read More

You Can’t Have Love

CheneyPoetry0 Comments

You can’t have love but you can have this kiss out in the rain on Providence Street, you can have this perfect man pressing you up against the kitchen sink whispering in your ear, you’re so beautiful, and you’re only twenty years old then, so you don’t know yet how bleak it will get, that you’ll get to 34 and … Read More

Five O’clock Somewhere

Cheney366skies, Daily Photo, Fiction, Writing Challenges13 Comments

No one bothers me at the grocery store. I’m invisible there, just another overweight, frumpy looking mom wandering the aisles with my cart, telling myself that 33 is still a tender age. I’ll spend ten minutes in the can aisle, picking up tins of peas and green beans in slime even though I would never buy them, because I’m an … Read More

Little Paper Heart

CheneyWriting Challenges7 Comments

“Mommy?” “I’m busy.” “Mommy, look at what I made!” “Not now, I’m watching my show.” “Mommy, look, it’s a picture I drew for you.” “I’ll look at it later.” “Mommy, please, LOOK!” “Not NOW!” She walks away, picture fluttering to the floor.

Who does she think she is?

CheneyFiction, On Writing, Writing Challenges11 Comments

Who does she think she is? I ask myself this over and over as I’m sitting at my vanity, applying thick coats of concealer and constructing my mask. Yesterday I cut my hair short – boy short. Today I do the hard work of hiding myself, turning my pretty girl face into just another anonymous guy. Who does she think … Read More

The Gull

CheneyFiction, Writing Challenges10 Comments

For weeks I’ve been eating nothing but berries I find along the edge of the forest, their reds and purples calling out to me, teasing me with their possible poisoned fruit. Mostly, it’s raspberries. The bushes overflowing with ripe berries and I pick my way through them until I can carry no more in the basket I make of my … Read More

First Day

CheneyFiction, Writing Challenges17 Comments

“Here they come. Quick, everyone, finish your coffees! Put on your masks!” They spread their mouths into grimaces that, with luck, will pass as genuine smiles. Somewhere behind them, a bell rings. The first bus pulls up, and the children pour out.