Several years ago my sister-in-law and I decided to participate in the "annual St. Patrick's Day parade". The challenge was to decorate the golf cart, ride through the park and let the residents vote for the best decorated golf cart. We only decided to do it for fun. We planned for my husband to ride on the golf cart with us. But as it turned out that morning he was too sick to go. At the time we were going through radiation for prostate cancer. I say "we" because I never missed a treatment. I was there with him every single day. So to this day I feel like I went through it too. Anyway, that morning my sister-in-law and I decorated her golf cart. We arranged, and re-arranged the decorations so many times I'm surprised they stayed on the cart. As we started down first one street and then the next, we were approaching the street my husband and I lived on. As we got close to our house, I realized my hubby was sitting outside on a lawn chair in his bath robe. He was so weak that morning, but sat there cheering us on. We honked the horn, I jumped off and ran to hug him. Then hurried to catch up again. We finished the parade, and we were ready to go back to her house to "un-decorate" the golf cart. One of the men shouted to me, "Where are you going?" I explained we were just trying to get out of the way. He said, "Don't you realize? You won!" We laughed, "We won?" My sister-in-law and I were shouting! We couldn't believe the prize. It was two rounds of golf! I couldn't wait to tell my hubby. I knew that would cheer him up! He was strong enough to use it in just a few months. One of the best memories I have of Saint Patrick's Day. Tell me yours!
A short story of mine was included in an anthology of short fiction by fourteen of Port Town Publishing Company's authors. It is out of print and no longer available except as a download. Contact me at charlenetess@yahoo.com if you want it.
Christmas - only days away; plastic snowmen and glowing reindeer adorn the lawns of neighborhoods all across America. All is calm, all is bright, and yet there is something tragically wrong about this Christmas night.
With swift passage thr
For the past two years (2006-2008) The Bridge of Silver Wings has earned a name for itself both as a series of poems published in different e-zines and as a book first published in 2007.
What makes this 2009 edition a special one is th
