Oklahoma City National Memorial Photo by Terrye Turpin 168 bronze and glass chairs, arranged in 9 rows, stretched across the green field. My fiance Andrew and I drove up to Oklahoma City the day before, a Friday, and spent an endless, tiring day at the car dealership where Andrew negotiated the purchase of used BMW. I … Continue reading A Day Like Any Other
Tag: Creative Non Fiction
What Will Answer When You Call My Name
Photo by Terrye Turpin My son, Andy, told me about the stray cat when I stopped over at his house for a visit. The cat, a scrawny orange and white tabby, wandered over to him at the park near his home. “I shared my snack with it,” he said. The cat, hungry enough to eat a … Continue reading What Will Answer When You Call My Name
The Things I Kept
Photo by Don Agnello on Unsplash I packed up my apartment in one afternoon, amazed at the amount and the variety of useless stuff I collected in fourteen months. Some of it I had when I moved in, but not the one hundred plus ketchup packets or the fifty little plastic sleeves of soy sauce. I … Continue reading The Things I Kept
Here in the Dark Beside You
Carlsbad Caverns — Photo by Terrye Turpin I hesitated in the candlelight in front of the locked metal gate seven hundred and fifty feet underground. The cave was slightly warmer than the inside of a refrigerator and smelled of mildew and the earthy scent of bat guano. As I inhaled the cool, moist air I glanced around me … Continue reading Here in the Dark Beside You
The Rivers
Photo by Terrye Turpin — Llano, Texas We arrived in San Saba, Texas, the Pecan Capital of the World, in the hot late afternoon, in time to check into our hotel and stash the packs filled with what we thought we’d need for the weekend. My fiancé, Andrew, and I wandered down the small town street while I … Continue reading The Rivers
The Changing Room
Photo by Terrye TurpinThe scar on my breast is a dark reddish brown, fading slowly at the edges. It is curved, like a parenthesis. There is a slight indentation, a flat spot under the blemish that shows when I stand in profile. The scar is hidden, even by my most revealing bathing suit. Most of the … Continue reading The Changing Room
Smoke Rings Like Halos
My mother, Christine, as a teenagerSometimes I’ll strike a match, and the sulfur scent brings back that sweet tobacco taste from the first draw on a fresh cigarette. I remember the blue-white smoke curling in tendrils and the hot orange glow of embers illuminating a dark room like secrets shared. Cigarettes were a secret I kept … Continue reading Smoke Rings Like Halos
The Care of Cast Iron
My mother on the far left, cooking over an open fire.I cannot find my mother’s frying pan. The one she gave me before she moved into the nursing home, before she died, and after she stopped cooking for herself. Her hands were rough, large and knotted with arthritis. They shook as she held out the frying … Continue reading The Care of Cast Iron
You Don’t Have to Step on My Feet
As part of a pledge to try new things, I signed up for a night of dance lessons, and for good measure I talked my friend Kristy into accompanying me. Kristy was in her early 30’s, and still young enough to be excused for a lapse in judgement, but I was old enough to know … Continue reading You Don’t Have to Step on My Feet
The Glue That Binds Us
When my boyfriend, Andrew, told me he had ordered something special for my birthday, I didn’t know what to expect. We started dating in October, and for Christmas he gave me a television. He won it in a drawing at his company holiday party so it didn’t cost him anything, but still, it was a … Continue reading The Glue That Binds Us
Let's Get Out of Here 