Category: Prose
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Ravioli Dreams of Nonna
Mostly, I remember that Nonna couldn’t speak–Italian or English. Her vocal chords were irreversibly damaged as a young child. Yet the spoken word wasn’t necessary for her to be understood and endeared.
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Appreciating My Treasure and #WritingBravely
My gale swelled with love for these smokey sapphire and golden-flecked gems.
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Stella’s Visitor – Act 5
“Walk with me, Stella,” purred the blue cat. “Let me share something with you.” Still grappling with the reality of a world with talking animals and no sun, Stella simply nodded and kept pace with her new azure companion as it shared with her a cautionary tale. Stella listened for hours and learned of the continuing…
Steph Abbott Says 
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