Things and Whatever

  The Climb A short story by Stephanie S. Sommers   “You’ll love it, I promise.” “Lisa, I’m afraid of heights and terrified of falling, how on earth do you think this is a good idea?” “If you give me half an hour then I promise after we can go for a nice safe hike, right?” Kyla grinned even as she rolled her eyes, knowing she would give in and let her best friend talk her into this crazy scheme as she always did.   “Okay, half an hour of death defying and then we keep our feet on the ground.” Kyla laughed when Lisa did and settled back in the seat to watch the scenery as Lisa drove them North across the prairie. Twenty minutes later Lisa slowed the car as they approached the entrance to a canyon, both sides of the road had turnouts and two cars were already parked on one side. Lisa pulled onto the opposite side of the road and parked. When she got out of the little station wagon a voice called out and she waved and jogged across the pavement to talk to the g...

  Parade Day A short story by Stephanie S. Sommers It was cold that morning, it always was in November, though some were milder than others. This particular morning was just brisk enough that a jacket was a welcome addition to the wardrobe but not so cold that it induced pain or distraction. There was plenty enough distraction with all the holiday revelers anticipating the day full of celebration and shopping and joy. The sidewalks were crowded as they always were, but even more because of the parade that would start soon. He checked his watch and realized he would have to hustle to thread his way through the growing crowd to get to his desired watching location. It wasn’t far now, maybe a few blocks, but with street vendors and extra bodies filling in the concrete and spilling onto the asphalt, it might be a struggle. If he was honest there were unseen struggles as well. He did his best to ignore those memories and twinges of guilt. It should get easier as time passed, but he ...

  My Dear, I am not at all sure when I will be able to send this letter. The postman has not come for the last three days but the grocer assures me that these delays are entirely normal. He is a delightful man, the grocer I mean, and he is always smiling and speaks slowly so I can understand and smiles so big whenever I learn new things. He has two small children who run around the shop, always followed by the wife who has a perpetual expression of patience on her face despite the scolding tone she uses on her young. I am not always sure what she scolds them about, perhaps the pilfering of a ripe pear from their father’s stock or some other infraction out of my sight. He is always indulgent to them allowing the small treats they take with a smile. I found the loveliest paper pinwheels the other week in a small market stall some blocks away. I bought a few and stopped in the grocery and asked if I might give them to the children. The boy took the red one and the girl took the gree...