Understanding a shared past

“Ready for some therapy?”

I was seated at my mother’s kitchen table and my heart pounded in anticipation of what she’d say. There were things she’d held inside for 20 years and more. I was much older now. Our relationship was stronger now. It was safe to divulge all the secrets she had been keeping…

When I arrived home after giving birth, I had no idea what to do with my daughter. I laid her down in her new crib in a spotless master bedroom. “What should we do with her?” I asked my husband.

“I don’t know. Wait until…


A short short story

Her gaze was cutting and sharp. Breaking eye contact only to sip her wine, she fixated on me again. A part of me was certainly in that glass.

It was relaxed here, a slice of freedom in a world where I needed to be flattered by a man’s attention. In a dimly lit Manhattan apartment on Saturday night, a dark-haired and intense beauty could size me up. No need to misconstrue. She was interested. Someone passed behind me and she gently tugged me closer by the lapel.

“Thanks. Near fatal collision there,” I said.

“Undoubtedly.”

We had discussed respectability politics…


Another Saturday at the hairdresser... I had grown up in places like these, where the music swayed with the generation. There was always rhythm and blues with a gospel lean. Always the animated one with the colorful hair and even more colorful stories. There was the bedrock, the stable one who was sure to only slightly deflate flights of fancy. In the air was also the smell of toasted curls and hairspray. It got into your clothing and was like the perfume of the stylish. Fried, dyed, and laid to the side.

There was an itch to be there that…


A short short story

It had taken three outfit changes before Lauren was ready to leave the house. Then came the hurdle of makeup. She thought of what would look most… plausible and drew a quick winged eyeliner with a subtle bronze shadow. She gripped the bathroom counter and closed her eyes.

I meant to try that new red lipstick but I think it’s too much. It’s not me. She knows me. Giving up on more decision-making, Lauren slapped on old reliable and hurried out.

At the bar she was too wound up to fiddle with her phone. She picked at her nails and…


A short, short story

Eric headed to study hall where his friends would be waiting. There was much to get done before the new semester started.

“G Shock!” Gerald looked up as Wayne squeezed through desks to greet him.

“What’s good?”

“Michelle Brown,” Wayne said with a smirk.

Pulling his glasses far down on his nose, Gerald scolded “Those young girls will throw you off your game. Keep your eyes on the ball, son!”

A few others in the group chuckled. Wayne’s bravado had no effect here and behind every smile was assurance. He really likes Michelle and the boys approved.

Quickly sliding into…


On picking more than one writing niche

A notification pops up and I read a familiar headline about how to “make it” as a writer in one way or another. As I voraciously read article after article, advice naturally conflicts. There are a few constants, like writing and publishing often as practice, but everyone has a different method to make a respectable living.

Among the oft repeated bullet points is focusing one’s writing to only a few topics. I started thinking about my niche. Having only joined a few months ago, I was not even sure I would survive long enough to be known for anything at…


Truths gathered while sending messages into space

Name it and claim it.

I didn’t call myself a writer until earlier this year. I approach this space of accomplished authors with trepidation, as I feel unprepared to be among them.

Just starting out is intimidating. The initial gumption to set my words on a public page often gives way to fear and insecurity, as I fear no one will appreciate what I’ve, at times, put my whole heart into. Eagerly reading how the experts have made their marks, thus far, there have been mere pennies for my thoughts.

Writing feels like…


Holy crap, you’re pregnant. When they say it only takes one time, you are living proof. Whoever thought a couple chocolate-covered strawberries could mark the beginning of a new life phase? It’s unbelievable, scary, perhaps exciting, and sometimes dreadful, but there you are, with a lima bean wreaking havoc on your guts and emotions.

The aisles in children’s stores are an endless array of gadgets and do-dads which promise convenience and security while sporting the latest designs. Every manner of gentlemanly couture and brunching toddler lewks lines the racks, interspersed with matching caps, socks, and soft shoes. After your hopefully…


On the first day of spring, I attended a writing workshop with the following prompt: gravity. Even session after session, I had not yet faced a dearth of ideas. I am a world-builder and it’s a fruitful outlet for craft practice. This particular day, though, I was nearly stumped during a 20-minute write. I finally scribbled a fictionalized scene from a supper club event I attended the year before.

The mood was rich, with tension quickly developing between two strangers as they were pulled closer and closer. It was a remembrance of a time past among old friends and new…

Chevanne Scordinsky

Writer | Leader | Healthcare professional | Advocate | World-builder

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