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Author Archives: kconstantine
Dream It
Albert Einstein said “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” So whatever my goal, imagination can be the key, at least to beginning the process. I want to write a novel. I’ve never written a novel before, so I’ve had trouble … Continue reading
Wild Ride
(For terribleminds.com Flash Fiction Challenge: A Story in Five Sentences, 100 words max) WILD RIDE I sensed the pull of him as he passed, heard him call “race you to the park,” and followed the flash of his smile. My … Continue reading
Reading and Reflecting
Mise en abyme is a term used in art when a copy of an image is placed inside an image, and sometimes in literature to mean a story within a story. It implies self-reflection: me looking at something and recognizing … Continue reading
The Thrill of Hope
The new year brings hope A day like any other Becomes an opportunity I watch the animals They don’t know the calendar And live in hope all of the days The cat sits motionless in the morning dew Staring at the gopher … Continue reading
Old Friends
I’m with Longfellow, who said, Ah! How good it feels the hand of an old friend. I can’t help it. I love old friends and I love traditions and I love remembering. I don’t know why I’m so nostalgic, … Continue reading
Ring in the Season
Ring, ring. Ring, ring. The melodic drone of the distant Salvation Army bell resonates with my sleeping memories of brisk nights, glittering friends, and arms full of happy anticipation. Ring, ring. Like the leaves piled on the sidewalk, I was … Continue reading
Autumn Begins
The sun still shimmers warm Breaking through branches bereft Their leaves lost to the lawn A coverlet for the coming chill
The Powell-Mason Line
You’re on Market Street in front of the conspicuous Westfield Mall in San Francisco and the hill that leads to Fisherman’s Wharf looms before you. You could walk, but notice people gathered in the intersection around the cable car turntable, … Continue reading
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Tagged cable cars, character, journeys, San Francisco, travel
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Comfort in Coarseness
Brooding makes a furrowed bed Unyielding to such a tired frame Precarious, unsettling Writhing only bruises But burrow through the fretting To a kernel of serenity Requiescence is found within Comfort now in coarseness
Kathleen Constantine 