Robin Hawke

January 3, 2013, 8:08 PM
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Was it the cat’s sudden snore or a moving sliver of moonlight?  Lyla woke with a start.  If the curtains opened, she might have seen the meteor shower before her eyelids drifted down.


Easy Or
April 6, 2012, 4:24 PM
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Where three rivers met, three brothers fished. They filled schoolbags with crawfish on the days they chased their bus. And wallowed in ditches with frogs.

April 4, 2012, 9:05 PM
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The siblings talked about digestive tracts and concerts. They filled blanks in each other’s memory. When the evening was over they forgot to say good-bye.

April 3, 2012, 9:36 PM
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Every thunderstorm reminded her of a night visiting relatives in Georgia. Then, there was a tin roof and no electricity. The lightening was so close the trees crackled and fear jumped.

Elbow Grease
April 2, 2012, 9:28 PM
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The kitchen was clean—even old refrigerator coils were vacuumed. Wood cabinets gleamed. The grease of fifty years dispersed under old-fashioned, rubber-gloved scrubbing.

April 1, 2012, 7:41 PM
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The fans creaked and the dog panted. Inside, with curtains closed, it was possible to escape the humidity.  They played with the thermostat trying to find a balance between hustle and grind.

Work Clothes
March 31, 2012, 8:46 PM
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The box shuffled from the back bedroom to the den to the garage to the back porch. After a yard sale, the box of size 32/30 polyester pants went back to the attic. Ten years later, the box came down from the attic and its contents were dumped, though cleaned and pressed, into a black garbage bag.