by Jocosa Wade | Oct 17, 2019 | Writing Practice
Movement was key, and the key was around my neck; that’s what extra shoestrings were for— skate keys. After eight hours at a desk, where the only activity was my pencil gliding haphazardly across the page to form letters and numbers I didn’t care about, I needed to...
by Jocosa Wade | Oct 10, 2019 | Writing Practice
Angular man with guitarNo longer gazes at the stars. Fingers pluck with eyelids closedMuscles tense— No chance for repose. White hair like a mountaintopChanneling chords of...
by Jocosa Wade | Oct 3, 2019 | Writing Practice
My husband, Jack Wade, was raised by a brood of women made up of his mother and his father’s sisters: Agnes, Melva, Genevieve and Sandy— an outcome of his father’s death when Jack was three. Wade males died young; it was the family history. His mother constantly...
by Jocosa Wade | Sep 28, 2019 | Writing Practice
He stands in the back of the roomA veteran of warA monument of knowledgeMy teacher. We must not look upon his faceNothing is written thereWe face front alwaysEven when answering questions. His voice is unexpected baitFor our seventh grade mindsWe do not...
by Jocosa Wade | Sep 28, 2019 | Writing Practice
My first short story, written at the age of seven with all its glorious bad grammar and spelling. Charlotte Jahn lives with her old Aunt Henrietta in a worn-down old mansion. Charlotte’s aunt is a kind old lady who loves children. She is about in her seventies and...
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