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Tag: Prose

the unbridgeable distance between natchez and oxford, s. conde, mississippi, idols of the tribe, the red speck, poetry, death, regret

The Unbridgeable Distance Between Natchez and Oxford

Posted on October 22, 2013November 9, 2018 by S. Conde

The worst part is that I knew. Too much time had passed.  I pushed the thought from my head. No time.  No time for that. I was so close.  So fucking close. Yet I didn’t go.  Too busy visiting, too busy with the minutia. I couldn’t make time. She was disappointed. I explained.  She was…

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The Buyers

Posted on August 13, 2013November 10, 2018 by S. Conde

Dear Buyers, There is a small but prolific vine that pops up all over the flower bed in front of the house.  I left her alone at first because she was lovely and bore tiny flowers.  She managed to choke and kill one of the lavender plants while I wasn’t paying attention last year, and…

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manipura chakra, chakras, will, yellow lotus, child rearing, om ma ni pad me hum, the red speck, idols of the tribe, sheer force of will, do what ye will an ye harm none

Will Power

Posted on May 17, 2013November 10, 2018 by S. Conde

When I was a girl, I knew an old woman. She had a magic. A way of knowing. The strength of a person’s will. She was quiet.  She watched.  She listened.  She smiled. Privately, she would give me summation. Weak willed.  Strong willed.  Willful.  With or without will power. I would like to say she…

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family photos, respect your elders, edith margaret taylor goodman, meemaw

Speaking In The Vernacular

Posted on March 21, 2013November 14, 2018 by S. Conde

She had a cadence to her voice.  A pattern to her speech. Sublimely Southern in her delivery. Rarely did she volunteer her opinion.  When asked, she chose her words with care.  She spoke in a kind of code. Responding indirectly,  answering questions not yet asked. She could cut you down, lift you up, make all…

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