Laundry Day

Laundry Day

Every Sunday, the washers at Sunshine Suds rattled like tired lungs. The radio played old country songs, the linoleum curled at the edges, and the vending machine was forever out of M&Ms. But that didn’t stop Tom. He came every Sunday at 8 a.m., carrying a basket...
A Place for the Sky

A Place for the Sky

The sky was just a memory from the third floor of the Marigold Care Home. Gerald Wyatt, age eighty-one, hadn’t seen much of it since his last fall. Since then, the nurses kept him near windows but never near edges. The television showed blue skies sometimes, but it...
The Sound of the Sea

The Sound of the Sea

The last sound Isla remembered clearly was the call of a gull slicing through the wind. That morning, the sea had been loud with life—the rush of waves, her mother calling from the dunes, the high shriek of her own laughter echoing as she chased foam and salt. Then...
The Coffee Shop Journal

The Coffee Shop Journal

It started with a notebook. Left behind on a corner table at the back of Bitter & Brew, it was a weathered, soft-covered Moleskine, the kind people carried for poetry or passwords. Tasha, the barista on Tuesday mornings, found it nestled between an empty espresso...