Elizabeth Modene

Tag: writing

  • The Cuke Canal & The Villageless Villager

    I knew buying the snacks for our cabin trip yesterday afternoon was a gamble, considering it would leave nearly 24 hours of pure opportunity for early access. Does the weekend start on Friday morning or Friday afternoon? This has been the great debate of the day, as I’ve managed to keep myself away from the…

  • The Clumsy Gardener

    The seedlings I planted in March were awakened prematurely, I fear. The Mexican Gherkins have begun chaotically spilling their tendrils forward from their potted homes, searching for anything, or anyone, to secure themselves too. The Lemon Cucumbers don’t appreciate the interference. I can feel their judgment toward me, the clumsy gardener who woke them during…

  • Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now (Except Maybe Burpees)

    I’m writing to you from a dentist’s office today. During my skincare routine this morning, I decided firmly that I would not let the time waiting for Dustin’s dental procedure go to waste in a beige vinyl waiting room. At best, I hoped it would be an opportunity to practice writing from an environment that…

  • The Curious Nature of Stillness

    January in the Midwest invites a recurring visitor, one that arrives donning its proudest protesting attire. It boldly states, in Arial Black font, “I DID NOT CONSENT TO THIS COLD,” and if it had a face, surely two rosy cheeks, cherry ChapStick, and a pair of tired but resilient eyes would be looking back at…

  • The Heretic Daughter

    Introduction: A Lavender Field Full of Bees I didn’t expect a lavender field to bring me back to myself. But standing there—surrounded by hum and bloom, bees weaving through the purple haze—I felt something stir in me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. A remembering. A quiet knowing that my story is still…