Gifts Rekindled–Judie Bristow
Exposing ashes of unfulfilled dreams. Moving through the intense flames. Unveiling the dense smoke screen. Left scorched and charred. Discovering a glimmer of creativity. Igniting smoldering embers. Unearthing extinguished burning
Tante Nonica–Martha Johnson
Memoir: “Sag deinen Namen!” In a small voice, the trembling eight year old girl standing next to my strong, stoic Tante, whispered, “Berthe.” Tante was the Mother Superior of
Rotkäppchen and the Dark Wood–Martha Johnson
Memoir: Like a thief in the night benzodiazepines stole my health. To mask the stresses of child welfare work, to ease the grief of knowing there are humans who intentionally
Impressions–David Dillon
Memoir: In 1989, my father bought a brand-new, gray, Mercedes Benz 300SE sedan. It was huge — two-and-a-half tons and nearly 17 feet long. He paid $52,000 cash for it.
My First Car–Julianne Johnson
Memoir: I was so excited to get a car of my own that I wasn’t even embarrassed by how awful it looked. I was in high school and at 16,
Breathless–Judie Bristow
Flashy and Built. Burning tires and High Octane. It took my breath away. Sleek and Loaded. Hot red and Custom details. It took my breath away. Leather and Chrome. Loud
Henry’s Cars–Martha Johnson
Memoir: 1. There was only one chick magnet. Finally, in 1998, Henry had the chick magnet he always wanted, a black 5.0 liter Mustang GT. All the cool guys in
Finding My Inner Cowgirl–Marcia Silver
Memoir: September 1992 On the used car lot, among the Volvos and other ho-hum vehicles, the red Mustang convertible lifted its head and promised boots and saddle, independence, adventure. Newly
Thorn City: A Novel–Pamela Statz
Fiction-Excerpt from a Novel: A bright yellow sports car roared up. It was low to the ground, long and lean, all angles and geometric shapes. The driver’s side door lifted
Old Growth Ford–Steve Quinn
Memoir: The car my wife and I just bought came to us as a complete surprise. It appears to be a Ford Model T, just now turning 100. It was
