AUTHOR
How much dirt does it take to make a field? The container garden on my balcony held several pots of dirt. When the pandemic came and constricted our lives in so many ways, that small apartment became the scope of my days. This was extended only a little by bike rides on a nearby trail,... Continue Reading →
Autumn makes me think of my grandmother’s pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies. She’d cover them in orange buttercream frosting and then decorate the tops with Jack-o’-lantern faces using a rich cocoa icing. I loved those cookies. My grandmother sold them for 35 cents apiece at the local pumpkin festival, and they sold out every year. My grandmother... Continue Reading →
I’ve been feeling the need to explain myself lately. Aware that I’ve put inordinate amounts of time into a hobby that I do (admittedly) love, I’ve felt the urge to defend myself (even if only to myself) about what I’ve been doing. What have I been doing? I’ve been writing a novel. In the dark... Continue Reading →
“Look!” His brakes screeched as the bike came to a stop. I caught up and slowed to a stop behind him. My friend pointed to the side of the trail. “Do you know what these are?” I looked down. “Mayapples?” “Mayapples. You know they’re native to Indiana?” I nodded. With that, he dove into a... Continue Reading →
All winter I watched a neighbor’s deck lights from my back window as they glowed against the grey and cold. The string of lights stretched between tree branches above the wooden deck. Morning and evening, I watched those lights create a small space of warmth against the dark woods beyond. I suppose I needed that... Continue Reading →
It layered itself like a fuzzy film along baseboards I didn’t often clean. It gathered on books I hadn’t opened in years. Dust marked what I liked to forget. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” the clergy would recite on Ash Wednesday in the church of my childhood. I remember... Continue Reading →
Callie J. Smith 