A LITERARY COLLECTION FROM VERMONT WRITERS

Dedicated to Kenneth Ronald Brown, my husband of 31 years. He crossed over on April 26, 2026. My husband was a Marine. In death, he is still a Marine. I used to say, “ex-Marine,” but there is no such thing. Once the legendary end of boot camp “Crucible” is conquered and the Eagle, Globe and Anchor is pinned to your lapel, you are a Marine until the end of time. In September of 1998, Parris Island arrived in Ridgewood NJ when Ken took a part-time job as a crossing guard at a c

I am grateful for home, sweet solitude, memories, pets, food three times a day (a bit more during the holidays AND my birthday) my town, a car that starts, clothes on my back, hair on my head, what is left of my family and friends in various stages of coming and going. Exercise, what I still have of my health, laughter, books, insight, notebooks, shoes, shampoo, kindness, dark chocolate, just enough money, watches, soft socks, smooth-writing pens, brakes, air conditioning in

A storm of rain but no thunder. Cloudbursts but no lightening. Sudden winds and unexpected magic. I was doing the dishes when something called It was just a small voice Nothing special The voice easy to ignore as frivolous or silly or stupid It said go out in the rain like your mother said you could when you were a child There is no thunder, no lightening, it is okay to be in the rain Have fun with it And so I left the dishes behind pulled my eyeglasses off my head my shoes f

Every Week We Laugh On April 26th, 2026, my husband died, and I returned to my seat on the roller coaster of grief. From here, I can slip through the days while gazing out at the world without anyone looking in, especially during moments when tears blur my vision. I am self protective and quiet, watchful and aware. Grief carries contradictions. I hold emotional opposites: I am hungry/I don’t want anything to eat; I want companionship/I want people to stay away; I want to go f

On Sunday, October 1, 2017, 867 people were shot by over 1,000 rounds of gunfire while attending a music festival in Las Vegas. Sixty of them died. Emergency support services were overwhelmed. All available medical personnel were called in but there were not enough to care for the shocked and bleeding victims who witnessed the murder of friends, spouses and strangers while holding their own deaths at bay. It was the deadliest mass shooting in United States history. All this w