For Heroes Proved

From beneath the misty shadows of the capitol dome, he rose from his sidewalk bed and brushed his cold fingers across the color-worn medal of valor rusting upon his collar. Soon the masses came, marching past in an encore parade of the every day and he raised his outstretched palm in solitary salute.

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Last night I dreamt that a hideous creature with glowing red eyes and long, pointed claws was standing at the foot of my bed watching me sleep. When I woke up this morning, I discovered it wasn’t a dream.

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Sugar and Spice

The childhood poem “Sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of” suddenly seemed so funny to her 6-year-old mind, as she stomped on his coloring book reciting the poem louder and louder.

“Snakes and snails and puppy dog tails” is more like it she giggled, enjoying the satisfaction of ruining the class bully’s precious art work.

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