My Writing

  Her name was Laurel just like the flowers that covered the mountains in the spring. Her face told the story of her life, every wrinkle a new chapter, every line contained a tale. She was old as the mountains and as young as the buds on the trees. On warm days you could see […]

There was one way in and one way out of town and that was the railroad. They liked to say there was one way in and one way out of the mines too but I didn’t like thinking on that much. My daddy had worked for the mines my whole life and I didn’t want

She could feel the hunger growing as she stood in front of the restaurant window looking at the tables full of aromatic gourmet food. Her eyes darted from table to table, searching, until she found what she had come for. There he sat wearing a nice Armani suit tailored to fit his muscular frame. His

“Impress me with your knowledge of the law”  Mr. Johns whispered pressing her up against the bookshelves, running his hand up her thigh. She laughed uncomfortably knowing that if she planned on ever becoming a partner she had to put up with Mr. Johns and the rest of the good old boys club. How much pressure

“I tire so easily now, It must be the weather” She knew it wasn’t the weather.  It was her life. So mundane and full of redundant days and ridiculous people. He looked at her over the top of the newspaper with disdain. As if she was a petulant child demanding attention. At least, he showed