Photography shows moments in time,

But often what’s not shown is also a crime,

Random videos have shown us well,

That sometimes there’s more of the story to tell.

Trying to solve a mystery,

Answers to record in history,

They search for clues in every field,

Often with no kind of shield

From the momentum of the pack.

Knowing little, still the crowds attack.

They throw daggers at every turn,

The court of public opinion will always churn.

How difficult it is to avoid the fate,

That often befalls the fourth estate.

I was a Broadcast Journalism major in college…

Hi there new follower! I see you! Thanks for noticing me. At least I think you noticed me. If so, I appreciate it.

I suspect, though, you may not really know I exist. I don’t understand this side of you, actually. You’re kind of an enigma. I see no evidence that you have ever read anything I wrote, interacted with me in any way, or had any dealings with my writing or me. So why the follow? It may be my glorious picture or bio, but somehow I doubt it. …

Times Change

Carded at 65 — thank you, dear!

Out to breakfast with my friend Debbie, who turned 65 last month. We’re not fixated on age (I turned 61 on Monday), but when Debbie got carded at Cracker Barrel (Cracker Barrel has alcohol?), she just beamed. It was such a moment of joy, I had to snap it. The waitress was surprised at our jubilant reaction and she enjoyed it immensely. I guess not may people are excited about producing proof of their age.

I got carded for many years long after I should have been. I hated it. Until it stopped…

It was the evening of June 28 in Statesville, North Carolina. About 7:00 p.m. It was a Monday. The temperatures were in the mid-to-high 80s.

It’s a time children are out to play. They were that night in neighborhoods all over Statesville.

Eight-year-old Ah’Miyahh Howell and her seven-year old cousin Tariq Lowery were out playing in a yard on Wilson Lee Boulevard, as I am sure they often did. It was home. They felt safe.

They weren’t. Witnesses say a car, possibly a white Mercedes, drove through the neighborhood, shooting the children. 911 was called and the police and EMS…

A friend of mine’s birthday is the day before mine. Each year she celebrates big. I have no idea of how many celebrations she had this year. A lot. I was personally invited to two, then we had one of our own (because being an introvert, I didn’t want to go to one where I didn’t know anyone but her well). I understand some of them are not over.

Her birthday was Sunday. She and I went out for brunch Saturday (I am a better meal buyer than a gift-giver) and I went to her party at a brewery in…

I moved and sold my house this week. The start of a new phase of life that excites me.

I swore I was going to be better this time. I’d been in my last house for 14 years. I moved to a 2-bedroom apartment (or one bedroom-one office, to be specific) this week. Prior to this move, I still had unpacked boxes from two moves ago.

I know people tell you that if you have not needed it in 14 years (plus), you simply don’t need it. …

I’m decluttering right now. It’s paper time. Countdown to my move is well underway. I have four more days. But this paper. I need to deal with it. It can’t move again!

Yesterday’s job was to sort through my small file cabinet and a box of files that came from who-knows-where. I probably started about 6 p.m. Yep, that’s how I get right on a project. I worked until after 11.

So much of this stuff was from around the early 90s. (So you weren’t born yet? Yep, I have more years than you. Winner!)

But it’s distracting. I’m here…

Poetry

Trust
Is earned
Not ever
Just expected
Because we are “good”.
When the prize is found pure
And your confidence held tight,
You feel connection, yet freedom,
Infuse your heart, your soul, and your brain.
You possess a most rare and precious gift.

Thanks to Melissa Coffey and The Sky Collection for a great prompt. This prompt was to write an “etheree”, a poetic form of 1–2–3–4–5–6–7–8–9–10 syllables per ascending (or descending) line.

Here’s another one of mine from The Sky Collection.

Kim McKinney has come to know trust is not a given in relationships or even a possibility for…