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Holy Oops
Fanciful

Holy Oops

I was thinking about going dancing this evening. Vintage dancing, the classy kind, where the guys softly lead from their fingers touching my shoulder-blade, and we kick and slide to bygone tunes. I packed my vintage-style dance shoes in the front seat this morning, in case I didn’t have time to go home. I was … Continue reading

On falling
Fanciful

On falling

I spent Holy Week in a mad rush of waiting and then bustling and then back again, for early mornings and long nights in a cavernous church that was now full of flowers and palms and then later stripped of all such frivolity and then later filled with flowers upon flowers again. The sacred prayers. … Continue reading