A Most Unusual Christmas Soirée By Katina Pontikeskatcpon@yahoo.com I love murder! Not of actual people of course, but the stories of actual people offing one another fascinates the hell out of me. Obsessions such as this call in the powers of the universe. Do you want me to make a believer out of you?
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When The Dying’s Getting Done By Katina Pontikeskatcpon@yahoo.com Many of my friends and family have reached the stage in life where planning for their earthly exit and afterlife has taken front stage; that and the declining health that precedes it: People without daughters frown and fret, asking “Who’s going to take care of me
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Chop Chop By Katina Pontikeskatcpon@yahoo.com Bernard Berenson True wisdom comes to people not at some stage of life, but in tiny little lightning bolts throughout life. Sometimes a teenager will say something that a much older person hadn’t thought of. Or a toddler will blurt out the most marvelously brilliant observation, missed by all
The Door To Nowhere By Katina Pontikeskatcpon@yahoo.com The church bells tolled the midnight hour. No noise at all came through Jack’s open window. Not even nature seemed to have any comments to offer him through the heavy black blanket of night. The hot air was sticky, and would surely cause the air conditioning to
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Touched By Katina Pontikes I was eager-eyed, cheerful, twenty-one years old. I had completed my junior year of college and my roommate and I were deciding what we should do with our lives. She was thinking that Chicago would be fun. I was giving serious consideration to the fact that I didn’t want to
Coffee Shop Ritual By Katina Pontikeskatcpon@yahoo.com The faint smell of jasmine tea vapor floated up to her nose, and she inhaled deeply, enjoying the warm mist. Suddenly she felt self-conscious and looked up. A man she had noticed sitting at the same table yesterday was staring at her intently. His gaze was soft, and
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My Personal Archeological Site By Katina Pontikes A very old brown shoebox sits in a corner of a musty storage closet, stuffed with relics of my romantic history. The box contains loose photos of me on picnics or vacations, tanned and smiling, hopeful for a glorious life. Sometimes I am next to boyfriends who
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