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Newsletter
- Author
- 04/09/2026
- 390 Words
- 245 Views
- 34 Comments
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Garlic or Love? - 1. Garlic or Love
Choosing
No chorus of angels sings,
nor do divine trumpets blow
Rather, our choices are quiet
coming in moments
we could ignore
With shaking hands or heavy hearts or
sometimes with a shrug
We ask which way, or what if?
Oblivious and blind until we
feel the shift in the ground below
Standing still is a direction.
Blade or gun is a choice.
It is we who choose what to carry
what to hear, whom to silence
and what is left unnamed
In the end, we are not judged by
the dramatic, but by the simple,
by the day-to-day and the doors
we do not open.
Red Ink
No one tells you
that choosing means crossing out.
It should feel decisive—
a clean way forward.
Instead, margins fill with silence,
whole paragraphs sacrificed to the work
You hesitate longest
over the sentences you thought saved you.
They aren’t wrong.
They just don’t belong.
Every deletion asks
Who are you without this?
Erasing is not forgetting
Ghosts linger in the lines
Clarity arrives in white space
not as absence, but as room to breathe.
The Garlic Question
Tonight we choose using prayer and logic
To cook with a clove, or no garlic.
The pan is ready, the oil is hot
The recipe says, "Add one shallot"
Add garlic next, one or two
Who on earth uses so few?
The garlic bulb sits on the side
A papery crown, a fragrant guide.
My inner voice says you must add six
Mince it fine and then mix, mix, mix
But then a voice from far away—
My spouse comes in to save the day
“I have a meeting early, so, please.
Let’s aim for breath that won’t fell trees.”
I pause. I weigh. I try to be fair.
Garlic or love? Choose with care.
Without it, dinner feels polite,
A little bland, and not right.
Respectable. Mild. Entirely tame.
The culinary equivalent of beige, by name.
But consequences are quite near
Perfume of the clove lasts for a year
Tomorrow’s coffee, toast, and tea
Will taste like yesterday’s spaghetti.
And if you’re torn, and conflicted,
Let this simple truth be predicted
In matters of life, love and fun
Too much garlic can't be done.
So cook with joy, ignore the doubt.
The only mistake, is leaving it out.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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