by Mary E. Lowd
“Why are you screaming at the ocean?”
The sage asks the artist
And the artist replies: Continue reading “The Artist and the Sea”
An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
by Mary E. Lowd
“Why are you screaming at the ocean?”
The sage asks the artist
And the artist replies: Continue reading “The Artist and the Sea”
I’m watching A Paris Christmas Waltz and it’s like one pinch each of Strictly Ballroom, American Dreamer, and The Cutting Edge thrown into a standard box mix Hallmark movie for flavor.
Oh, and Matthew Morrison keeps dancing and also had a song. Continue reading “Stray Notes on Random Christmas Movies”
by Mary E. Lowd
How many voices do we lose
Because listening is so hard
That almost no one
Does it? Continue reading “The Voices of Orchids”
by Mary E. Lowd
The kitten has been growing
His fluffy tail overflowing
Like a fountain or waterfall Continue reading “The Fluffy Tail”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hexagon, Issue 9, June 2022
Leslie yanked the toggle on the Build-a-Pet arcade machine with one hand and mashed the big round buttons with the other. On the screen looming above her head, a colorful, twisted ladder bent and spun around, and large friendly letters spelled out words she couldn’t read yet. Though she did recognize the letter L. She knew that one from her own name. Continue reading “Build-a-Pet”
I love how when my cats Piper and Julian play together, Julian makes these pretty, purring, “I’m so happy we’re playing!” sounds and Piper makes these growling, angry, “I wish you were dead!” sounds. The contrast is hilarious.
I love how when my cats Piper and Julian play together, Julian makes these pretty, purring, “I’m so happy we’re playing!” sounds and Piper makes these growling, angry, “I wish you were dead!” sounds. The contrast is hilarious.
A Man on the Inside is a lovely little show, but it’s kind of surreal for me how much Ted Danson has aged into looking like my Grandpa Wes… who also lost his wife to Alzheimer’s after promising he’d never put her in a care facility. So that aspect was kinda intense.
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy
Ever since my fortieth birthday, I’ve been thinking a lot about mortality. What happens when we die? Is there anything waiting for us on the other side of the veil, or is this life all we have? The thoughts catch me when I’m alone; when it’s late at night; or even sometimes right in the middle of a chaotic day, rushing around with my kids on errands. Continue reading “Ginger Tea for the Dragon”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy
A tiny dragon burrowed into the big toe on my right foot, curled up around the joint, and lives in there now. Well, sleeps there. It seems to sleep all day long, like a cat in a sunbeam. Except, a dragon. In my toe.
Most of the time, I don’t notice it at all. But sometimes, the dragon shifts in its sleep, writhing and rearranging, and I feel all the spines along its back and long, coiling tail scrape and screech against my bones, brightening my foot with pain like lightning forks across the sky. Continue reading “The Dragon in My Toe”
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Hot Chocolate for the Unicorn and Other Flights of Fancy, December 2024
They say that Hot Lake Hotel is haunted, but the shimmer of bluish light in the corner of my room wasn’t waiting for me when I arrived. She came with me. She’s been following me all of my life. Almost all of my life.
I close the door to my room — lucky number 113 — behind me and gratefully pull off the face mask I still wear everywhere. I know that most people have moved on from the pandemic, but between my rattly joints and asthmatic breathing, the last thing I need is to roll the dice on long Covid. So, I still mask up when I go out. Continue reading “Sister Ghost”