More short stores
by Marianne H. Donley I don’t have The Shopping Gene. I hate shopping. Honestly. I would rather iron wrinkled cotton pleated skirts. I would rather have a tooth pulled without drugs. All right. All right. I would rather clean bathrooms than go shopping. Considering I live with men who think…
by Carol L. Wright When I got the email from an unknown “attorney,” addressed “Dear Samuel Giffords,” I didn’t give it a second thought. Next to Nigerian princes, a fake inheritance from a long-lost relative was among the most popular scams out there. But when I took another look, I…
by Marianne H. Donley I lend books to just about anyone who wants them. Sometime even to people who don’t. I never worry about getting the books back because I have a handy-dandy book embosser. I stamp from the Library of MH Donley right on the title page. Most people…
by Dianna Sinovic I found the rooftop garden because of Captain America. We’ve become close friends, he and I. He depends on me for fresh greens, and I depend on him to keep me from taking a step off the ledge. It’s the silence that unnerves me. Not absolute silence:…