Where I Am

Conscience brings my writing to a fork in the road. Personal values push to the front. Do beliefs trump creative suggestion? Or does a virtuous writer write in spite of the moral dilemma?


Trifecta has given us free reign to write what we want. “this weekend we are asking for a thirty-three word free-write.  Any topic, any style–just give us your best thirty three.”

Writers block, embracing values and asking myself  “Are you who you wanna be?”

Trifextra: Week 75

Trifextra: Week 75

I Believe

With cool water, I bless, Father, Son, Holy Spirit, kneel and weep. The crimson light proclaims His Body, Blood, and Soul. Mourning your haunted, prodigal faith, mine soars in light 2000 years old.

Trifecta’s Trifextra: Week Fifty Seven asks us to write a piece of first person narrative in 33 words. This is my bit using my own voice.

One of my favorite songs ever. I use to play flute in a group at weekend Mass. Every time I hear this song, it makes me weep. I loved playing the flute part, so pure and so haunting. It speaks of my faith and my love for my faith. I truly believe.

Trifecta: Trifextra Week fifty seven

A Confident Walk

She sits affixed to the smooth oak pew, hard, yet warm from the time spent sitting, listening to and learning the sacred words. Then the last heel of the final preschooler  gleefully slips through the side door as the choir sings “This Little Light of Mine”.  Rising on smooth grey patent and suede, her favorite heels, she side steps into the carpeted aisle, that stretches to the altar like flowing red wine. She ventures forward in muffled silence with care and reverence to the bottom step. She grasps hands prayerfully together and bows with respect believing in the sacrifice that will soon be made. Turning left, a few more steps take her to two marble covered steps leading to the ambo. Each heel and toe tap rap in a sharp report, echoing the tangible difference between carpet and marble breaking the silent journey. The steps rise to the deep green, veined marble of the podium holding the lectionary. Her open hand brushes the cold hard stone and is shocked by the piercing but exhilarating coolness. Fingers brush lightly across the page as if she could feel the beginning. Eyes rise, leaf through the faces and with confidence she begins “A reading from … ”


I wrote this prompt about being a lay lector (reader) at Sunday Mass.

Red Writing Hood – Setting

This week we asked you to take us somewhere. Where was up to you -fiction or creative nonfiction- but we asked you to use your words to paint the setting as vividly as possible. In 200 words.