The close-knit family of seven, who congregate every Sunday for supper since his deployment last year, optimistically tell stories and share shoulders around a table set for eight.
Like a loud stereo suddenly unplugged, deafening silence befell the breathless room as unified smiling eyes observed a polished yellow taxi proudly delivering their distinguished hero.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Every morning, once the programmed coffee maker finished brewing, a middle-aged widow and her adored stepdaughter sat at the kitchen table to reflect on a lost love who left the precious gift of geminating inseparability.
After helping with the breakfast dishes, the doughty little girl ran outside to water her three favorite flowers while the novice homemaker fell against an empty sink clutching her anniversary pearls.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The bald boy of five, dressed head to toe in a full Superman costume, had an unmistakable light in his baby blues that completely lit the carpeted elevator we were sharing with his obviously exhausted father.
As dad hyperventilated pure love through his perfectly matching Superman outfit, he looked into my tearing eyes with a heart-wrenching blend of unimaginable pride and utter helplessness.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Beyond the shoal of a well traveled shoreline, past the protective breakwater, there is a not so noticeable locus of beauty where the berm of the beach abuts a backdrop of tender brush.
Eight subtle stems of civility quietly stretch within a carefully cultivated plot that was purposefully designed, without claim or conceit, by a sun-ravaged family man.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The delicate, settling petals of spring softly lit the burgeoning amphitheater like countless stars on a crystal clear night that assemble to stare at themselves in a virtual woodland mirror.
As their gladiatorial battleground serenely flourished near the furrows and flakey ridges of a cucumber tree, the snake and the mongoose graciously agreed to a mutually mollifying truce.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
In addition to suspenders his son gave him for Christmas, the potbellied single parent wore plain work pants, a faded flannel shirt and salt stained boots that had seen their last season.
For the final time this winter, he climbed down from Big Yellow with a well chewed cigar stub in his mouth and fondly looked at the sky that afforded him such an endearing smile.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Day after monotonous day, Old Man Winter relentlessly wielded his unyielding wand to summon a persistent hodgepodge of pitiless elemental ferocities.
He slowly descended the ascending stairs of spring seeking hibernation from the vernal thaumaturge who initiated efflorescence by bestowing her benevolence upon his wake.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
An air freshener-like smell of pine, from the abandoned mill across the street, continued to linger above what was now a simple shallow pond devoid of aspiring hockey players.
After several spirited weeks of perpetual ice, the boys with blades, as they were called, knew mother nature had finally put the kibosh on another season of camaraderie and kinetic kinship.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Morning sunshine splashed across my face as I dawdled about the pelagic place where crowds bustled and weighty trade ships once docked.
The sway of this me and my shadow moment was magnified by the frothy freshness of salty sea air which instantly invigorated an otherwise ordinary nature of breathing.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
The temper tantrum she threw was standard performance art for any nine year old that couldn’t convince her father on the importance of riding a new bike the second it was assembled.
Mother nature’s mounting malfeasance was soon forgotten when a doting dad asked his little girl to put on an apron and help him create the perfect gooey-cheese pizza for two.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Two penniless families from under the overpass sipped cold tomato soup out of partially rusted cans that were discovered a day earlier by one of the shoeless children.
When the powerful food transport passed by, several ravenous kids ran after nothing more than the taunting and untouchable scent of fresh baked bread they would never taste.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
As snow silently sang outside, a consuming case of collywobbles curbed the escalating excitement of anxious surprise party attendees.
After successfully navigating tiresome roads laden with lousy conditions, the knackered guest of honor unsuspectingly toddled up to the fated front door.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
She wontedly wore a silk crimson scarf, plush fitted hat and a smile that invited anyone who saw it to say hi.
Nowadays she wears soft tattered slippers, ruminates in a rickety rocking chair and has groceries delivered every two weeks.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Familiar light from her ongoing baking lit the eyesome white landscape which held heightening hurdles of sastruga like distance markers to our destination.
While we trudged towards the inviting warmth of grandma’s house, an airy sweet aroma of scratch made ginger crinkle cookies cordially enveloped us.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Urgency ushers itself upon us when the choking embers of camplight give way to the disorienting, dilating dusk within the woodlands.
Faint echoes amidst this forested twilight imminently become the crunchy, gelid compression of nearby footsteps that taint the sterility of fresh fallen snow.
(Photo: Edward Roads)
Written by Edward Roads
Mytwosentences 