I am

the taste of vanilla melting into a concoction of pecans and bliss on Thanksgiving when the warmth of family is rising like homemade bread. The laughter plumes into the air, and I smell the stale cigarettes on my Mother’s hands as she kneads the dough  – their strength molding my world. A twinkle of teeth…

Elise Lifting the Sun

“What if hearts were made of waffles?” Elise mused, her pigtails bobbing slightly as syrup from the bottle pooled on her plate and drizzled over the side from the unsteadiness of hands not quite as big as the questions she posed. “Well, then love would be as deliciously sweet as you are,” I replied, dipping…

Family Fruit

“The best families have fruit, some sweet like berries and some sour like citrus, a few nuts for variety, the grains of flour holding us all together, a splash of rum to warm the spirit, but the best part is the proverbial cherry on top – that’s you my dear,” Granny smiled as she delicately…