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Author Archives: Cindy Reed
I have padded sock-footed on the edges of groups all my life, not so much disallowed from their embrace as disallowing myself, peering through their windows Little Match Girl-style, drawn by their golden circle of lamplight spilling onto the sidewalk. … Continue reading
Helen Mirren tugs her white Lycra swim cap over her sleek silver bob, then pops on her pink swim goggles. She smooths her swim skirt and eases herself into the water. Santa is already here. Santa is always swimming laps … Continue reading
In sports, they call it “the yips” – a sudden and inexplicable loss of fine motor ability. An athlete’s skills simply vanish – no more pitching strikes, serving aces, or shooting free throws. I’ve had the yips. I lost my … Continue reading
I needed twelve mini-pumpkins stat for Akeyla’s birthday party craft – the only craft I’d planned for the preschoolers who would be descending on my home in a mere two hours. The pumpkin patch was closed. Who the fuck closes … Continue reading