The Roundabout

We are on a holiday in Greece. Jim is at the wheel and I am navigating our return to Athens from Marathon. The roads are frantic and the drivers insane. We did not arrange for a GPS in the rental car, which was a mistake.

Suddenly we find ourselves at a roundabout. Jim asks tersely, “Which exit do I take?”

“Slow down so I can read the signs,” I bark back. “Is that upside-down Greek “y” an “L” in English?”

The meaning of the expression “It’s all Greek to me” makes sense now.

Six circumnavigations later, we’re on our way.

From Guest Contributor Janice Siderius

Donning A Mask

The first time I’d worn a mask other than Halloween, was during the Covid-19 crisis. I needed groceries and the supermarkets had strict rules about entering without protection.

When I exited my car, I donned my mask, latex gloves, wiped down the wagon and entered the store. The supermarket was eerily empty, and the shelves were bare of toilet paper and rice.

I approached the cashier who was behind a protective shield and slid my credit card through the slot. Once approved, I packed my bags and left.

When I got behind the wheel, I removed my mask.

Fresh air.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Rain Vigil

Worn wooden arms hold me as I rock in my grandma’s rocking chair on the front porch of her old house. My grandma’s quilt keeps me warm in the cool fall air. It’s the first day it hasn’t rained in weeks. A mist of water rises over the treetops, and the grass is wet. I can’t stay here long. The house is already sold. All the rooms are empty. All that’s left is the rocking chair, the quilt, and me. I’ve kept vigil with the sorrowing rain. I pack up these last moments, get behind the wheel, and drive away.From Guest Contributor Tyrean Martinson

Tyrean is a writer, daydreamer, and believer at http://tyreanswritingspot.blogspot.com