Innocent, naive, quietly reciting the audition lines in her head.
No matter how eloquently she pours her heart and soul into the performance,
Her dreams of silver screen immortality will be decided on the neon bathed couch where she waits.
Written for Week 297 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Manny Moreno via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
Memories of summers past have faded but the image of our cabin through the rear window remains; the last summer we’d spend there together.
Shortly after returning home Dad was diagnosed with the cancer that would take his life five months later; leaving an empty chair at our family table.
We tried for a short time the following summer but the sadness that consumed us proved to much for Mom; we’d never return to the cabin in the woods again.
Written for Week 296 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Nathan Dumlao via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
The days grow shorter as autumn sheds its summer skin,
Soon, the crushing weight of winter will lay heavy on my rooftop,
In time, I know the sorrow in my heart will fade to the hopeful renewal of spring.
Written for Week 296 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Nathan Dumlao via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
Wrapped in last night’s hazy memories, the dirt of the hard road pressing between her toes.
The past echoing like a thousand screaming voices trapped inside her head.
“Don’t look back…” she whispers to herself as she travels the path from which she can never break free.
Written for Week 265 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Jason Yoder via Unsplash.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
Tonight, the first breath of winter,
creeps outside darkened windows of
a slumbering escarpment town.
The soft, fresh snowfall of
a mid-November chill may be fleeting,
but in the morning gives rise to
a promise of long cold nights to come.
Copyright 2021 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
Photo Credit: Greg Glazebrook (November 18, 2020)
Copyright 2020 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
Day by day, she numbs her loneliness in the reflections of a lifeless computer screen.
In a far corner I sit silent, alone and forgotten.
Oh how I long to feel her soft hands pulling at my (heart) strings, filling the room around us with her beautiful song.
Written for Week 218 of Sonya’s Three Line Tales challenge. Photo credit: Elijah O’Donnell via Unsplash.
Copyright 2020 Greg Glazebrook, All Rights Reserved.
Social distancing has become synonymous with the arrival of SAR-CoV-2 and the global COVID-19 pandemic. As more and more people become sick and COVID-19 takes more lives one of the tactics being used to fight transmission is the idea of social distancing. Essentially avoiding social gatherings, staying in your homes and remaining six feet away from other people. Continue reading
We may use high tech instruments to record time down to the most infinite of units but it is still and arbitrary contruct. For the most part people don’t measure time in hours and minutes. Sure, the clock runs our daily lives, work at 8:00, doctor’s appointment at 2:30. Its always there but as time goes by the days are less important and we tend to measure its passage by our memories. The smell of Grandma’s apple pie brings you back to those Thanksgiving dinners, the sound of the rain brings you back to that camping trip, or the taste of a good Bordeaux transports you back to the French Vineyard where it first passed your lips. For me music acts as that catalyst. So many memories wrapped up in the sounds that defined the time period when they happened. Continue reading
Another year and Christmas is upon us. Where has the time gone. Seems like I wrote last year’s Christmas post only a fortnight ago. Yet here we are. Continue reading
Christmas is truly enjoyed years later, the hustle and bustle forgotten and the memories of the day strung together through the years. Continue reading
Greg's Blog 