I’m moving . . .

New name, new address ~ GypsyChyck.com All new posts will be made on new site and in process of transferring files. I do hope you’ll hop on the gypsy wagon and ride along! Peace, jill

Single thought

Not a single thought was given when he opened the first bottle just a little past noon, savored the flavor and called it lunch. By three his productivity was lagging and he looked at the clock, wondering if he’d make the five o’clock deadline or just make a quick call and push out delivery till

P A P P Y

He sat in the reclining chair, feet up, air cool, gasping for each and every breath; 19″ color television forever in his range of view, always set to PBS, because there was no satellite hookup or cable; it was an office after all, a place of business, where one lone craftsman struggled to scrape out

UNCONSCIONABLE

“Look at all the little shells – why’s the beach all mixed up with shells,” the little boy asked inquisitively; football balloon tied to one hand, a man he looked like he had no business being with dragging him toward the shore with the other. “The beach is all shells, ground up and washed ashore,

Glancing back

I thought for a moment, and then told myself no; it couldn’t possibly be. Then the Barista called out your name and you stepped up to get your coffee and when the light over the bar illuminated your profile; granted is now covered with an intricate and deliberate layer of just the right length stubble,

MESSAGE RECEIVED

I haven’t seen or spoken to him since the day of her funeral. We sat at the table with him and he made us laugh, with his stories and orneriness, just being himself. He was a pillar of strength, though the pain was clear in his eyes, he forced smiles for her sake and I

L I F E . . .

She was sending texts from the hospital, waiting for the doctor; nervous, as this day has been long in coming. I told her to find a Zen spot and focus. She said she didn’t know if she had a Zen spot; I laughed and told her that’s why she needed to find one! She laughed,

HAZY DAYZ

The fog was thick in my head, as I bid my husband good day, took my coffee and left the café. Two miles down the road and I rammed the brakes through the floorboard, to keep from eating the cute little bug I apparently didn’t see stopped right in front of me; my bag slamming

PAINTING PICTURES

Standing in the waiting line, minding no one’s business but her own, when a voice too familiar spoke out from behind her; “I used to have that all the time,” she heard him say; “It’s even better than it looks,” he finished with a chuckle; as her body tensed and her blood ran cold; knowing