“WYSINEC (What You See is Not Even Close)” — Maria B. Davis

“Do you feel as overwhelmed as I do?”

“Yes.”, I reply. I press the phone to my left ear while turning the phone’s volume down. I know the conversation will soon become serious and I don’t want others to hear as I move to a more private space.

We talk…

A holiday video.

Commercial Historic Downtown Angola, Indiana

This is an archived memory. Sometimes extraordinary things happen in ordinary places. It felt like this was one of those times.

Soldier’s Monument | November 2018

Together again.

“James” photo by Maria B. Davis

My hair is dark.

My eyes are brown.

I am the color of sand.

Rocks and shells disintegrated into tiny particles by a blue and green ocean and carried in its powerful current to be spread across the world to distant shores.

I was once whole like the…

The sound of crows breaks through the silence of the warm, muggy morning. The sun has barely risen and yet the blue-black birds outside have decided to announce their arrival with loud shrieks, as if their lives depended on it. Sometimes I hate mornings. …

Life is too short. Be who you are.

To the child inside me, you and Mom were immortal. It took me a long time to truly understand that you were getting older, even though I could look in the mirror and easily see my own age.

Six days. That’s all it took for you to walk through the…

Stock photo from Stock Unlimited

I am a Salmon.

I am a salmon that swims upstream with the goal and hope that the next generation will get the same chance...or better.

Stock photo from Stock Unlimited

Stray wisps of clouds drift between a layer of white and the bright blue sky. Sun glints off the jet plane’s wing. The loud hum of the engine and the view out the window leave me to my thoughts. This is the last leg of the trip home. I feel old…worn…disconnected. The night before was sleepless-the fruits of my labor left to rot. If I could have, I would have laughed. Instead, I drank.

I know time will heal my bruised and broken ego. Until then, I’ll ruminate on what should have happened, flip flop between relief and failure, and try to believe that what did happen is as it should be.

The air felt thick and heavy against her skin, like tiny pinpricks of ice burrowing into her flesh and deep down into her bones. In only a flowing white gown; she was desperately aware of how underdressed she was, feeling somehow that she had been in this situation before, although…


Older, but not necessarily wiser. I look ahead, keeping the past in mind. It shapes who I am without defining me, forever changing, hopefully for the better.

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